


Love Next Door

by BloodyIvar



Series: Love Next Door [1]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 04:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12027729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyIvar/pseuds/BloodyIvar
Summary: Gemma is a magazine editor in a big city who moves back to her home town and finds her old high school crush still living next door.  There’s one catch - he has a girlfriend but, of course, she’s no good and totally unsuitable for Hvitserk.





	1. Chapter 1

Gemma stood in the darkness of her bedroom, watching the tiny, white snowflakes fall from the sky like shimmering, sparkling diamonds, landing softly on the ground. The first day of February was turning into a blinding snowstorm. She turned from the window and made her way down the hallway to the kitchen for a bite to eat and a hot drink before setting out on her adventure. Gemma Berk, also known as ‘Cookie’, had long, brown hair that glistened as it caught the light. Her green eyes shone with laughter like the brightest stars in the sky and her sexy body was made to be held and cuddled through the cold winter nights. This particular evening, she was a woman on a mission and that mission was to make a certain someone’s life as miserable as possible. And that person was her good, old buddy Hvitserk. 

Gemma had been away for a year and she wondered for a brief moment if he had missed her. With a short chuckle, she made a wild guess and came up with a definite NO! She moved around the small, cozy kitchen and flicked on the radio, tuning it to her favorite station. She swayed her hips in time to the music as she made toast and hot chocolate, smiling all the while in anticipation of the mission she was about to embark upon. Roxy, the wonder dog, hearing Gemma in the cupboard, jumped off the sofa and bounded in the direction of the kitchen. As any shrewd dog can attest, the potential for treats was very high. Roxy careened around the corner and smacked into the table leg with a thud.   
“Hi, darling!” Gemma cooed, leaning down to give her pet a hug. Roxy had come from the animal shelter and was within days of extinction when Gemma came to the rescue and the bond between them had grown incredibly strong. “How’s my baby tonight? Are you hungry?” After looking into her pet’s adoring eyes, Gemma released her hold and reached into the cupboard for dog food and filled her pet’s heavy bowl to the brim. Gemma performed an elaborate curtsy as she placed the bowl in front of Roxy. “Enjoy your meal, Your Majesty.” The dog dismissed her with a regal wave of its tail, turning to devour dinner. With a laugh, Gemma stood up and glanced at the clock on the wall. 

It was close to midnight, the witching hour. With a final glimpse at Roxy, she went back to her bedroom to finish dressing. She pulled on a pair of thermal underwear and a pair of grey sweat pants, then hauled the matching shirt over her head. Sitting on the bed, she put on a pair of the thickest socks she could find and hurried back to the kitchen, taking another quick glance at the clock. It was time. Watching as Gemma shoved her feet into her boots, Roxy made a mad dash for the door. Gemma looked down at her loveable roommate, shaking her head. “Sorry, Babe. You can’t come with me tonight,” she said, as she slipped into her down-filled navy blue jacket, yanked a red woolen cap over her ears and pushed her hands into fleece-lined mittens. Knotting a thick, white scarf under her upturned collar, Gemma left the house, carefully closing the door behind her. 

The storm had set in. The biting cold and gusting snow took her breath away as she trudged along the narrow driveway that ran along the side of the house. She grabbed the shovel that was leaning against the garage and pulling her collar up around her ears, headed towards the trees at the back of her property. Dragging her shovel behind her and sinking almost knee-deep in the snow, she quietly made her way toward the enemy line. Her target, Hvitserk Lothbrok, whom Gemma had, many years ago, christened ‘Cuddles’, was the most exasperating man on the face of the earth. He and Gemma had an ongoing friendly feud that had begun in the first grade and had continued for the past twenty years. Gemma smiled as she thought of that day when the first sword was drawn. She’d never forgotten his angelic face as he yanked on her braids. They had tormented each other throughout their entire childhood, each taking turns trying to outdo the other, neither one willing to call an end to the childish pranks. She checked her watch again. 

Hopefully, Hvitserk would be in bed and sound asleep by now. The snow was falling heavily. She used her hand to wipe the large, wet snowflakes from her cold, damp face. Her chest labored with exertion as she trekked through the deep snow that had drifted during the storm. The snow, heavy and easy to pack, would be ideal for her task but it certainly made her journey difficult. Not more than fifty feet away, the house loomed in the milky distance. Step after step, she drew closer to her destination, and the closer she came to the enemy line, the faster her heart pounded. She rested for a moment beside a stand of large pine trees that provided shelter from the storm. Quietness and stillness surrounded her like a well-worn blanket. It was eerie. Through the clearing ahead, she could see the house bathed in darkness. Her heart quickened. The house, now slightly weather beaten, had once been very grand. White shutters cradled the windows like a lover’s arms and a regal wooden porch supported by round, white pillars spread across the front of the house. Here and there, small etched, leaded windows proclaimed their timeless beauty and an exquisite Victorian door overlooked the veranda. Shielded by the house from the blustery storm, she slowly crept up the front walk. 

One step at a time, the snow beneath her feet crunched and echoed like booming thunder. The porch loomed before her, beckoning her forward. A small nervous chuckle escaped her lips as Gemma began her ascent, carefully avoiding the one step that she knew only too well; the one that groaned and creaked under the slightest pressure. She looked around at the other houses on the street to ensure no one was watching as she dug the shovel into the snowdrift for the first time, anxiously tossing a mound of snow against the door. The more snow she scooped, the higher the wall became. Twenty minutes later, she stood back and admired her handiwork. Then, ever so silently, Gemma used the back of the shovel to pack the snow. From top to bottom and side to side, the door had become a wall of snow. Carefully, she crept down the steps and circled the house, walking quietly to the back door. She started the game again, trying not to make any noise as she gently packed snow against the sturdy back door. With a final heave, she let the last bit of snow hit its target. Once again, Gemma surveyed her work and then backed off to make a getaway. 

She slipped down the back steps and returned to the front of the house. Pulling a piece of paper from her coat pocket, she slipped it under the torn screen of the window beside the Victorian door, now completely hidden beneath a wall of snow. Across the top in big bold letters, the note read, “I’m baaack!” She turned to leave and with a final glance, disappeared into the small stand of trees that lined the side of the house. The snow swirled around her and the wind howled through the towering pines. Gemma walked as quickly as possible along the barely visible path among the trees that joined the two properties. She was shivering from the cold night air and her whole body felt like a huge block of ice. All she wanted was to go home, lie in a hot bath, soak out the chills and bring the feeling back to her numb hands and feet. Finally home, Gemma leaned the shovel against the garage and scurried to her back door. 

A blast of warm air greeted her as she pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold, firmly closing the door behind her. Leaning against the door, she began to laugh hysterically from the adrenaline rush of her escapade. “I did it!” she shouted. “I did it! I did it! I did it!” Her mission accomplished, she pried off her boots and slid off her heavy snow covered jacket, draping it on the back of a kitchen chair to dry. Her laughter rang throughout the small bungalow and echoed off the walls as she flipped on the light switch and went to her bedroom. Roxy uttered the usual greeting and bounded after Gemma. Laughing and shedding clothes, she reached the bed and fell onto the soft, rose-patterned duvet, exhausted but pleased with herself. 

Boy, am I going to pay for this one, she thought, as Roxy jumped up onto the bed beside her. Roxy snuggled up against her shivering body and Gemma threw an arm over her pet’s soft warmth. The house was quiet. It was after two in the morning and she was bone tired. Forcing herself to move, she stood up from the inviting bed and headed for the bathroom. Gemma pulled her chilly clothes from her body, dropping them to the tiled floor in a heap as she ran her bath, tossing a handful of scented bath beads into the hot water streaming from the taps. She eased herself into the heated therapy, turning the taps off with her toes as she lay against the back of the tub, groaning with pleasure as the hot water covered every inch of her numb body. She slid down into the tub until the ends of her hair brushed against the water. Inhaling the intoxicating aroma released by the steaming water, she was lulled into a state of total relaxation. 

“Oh,” she said out loud. “I can’t wait to hear about this one!” Then the laughter started all over again, echoing off the walls of the small room. Lying in the tub, she tried to imagine how Hvitserk would react to her little stunt. By daybreak, the packed snow would become icy hard and there would be absolutely no way he would be able to use the front or back doors. She could just picture him trying to get his muscular frame through a window! When her body temperature finally felt like it had returned to normal, she pulled the plug from the bathtub, letting the lukewarm water escape as she lifted her body up and wrapped herself in a thick, white towel. After drying off, Gemma slipped her favorite pink flannel pj’s over her head and picked up her clothes. She carried them to the laundry room just off the kitchen and dumped them into the waiting basket that sat by the washer. She stood at the window for a moment, watching the snow swirl around the distant streetlights, happy that she was back in Winter Falls. 

Gemma loved living in Winter Falls, a small town with no skyscrapers or four-lane highways. She had grown up in this close knit community. It was a pleasant, friendly place to live but unfortunately, not close enough to the city for an easy commute. When her parents had moved away, Gemma had decided to stay behind. Only once had she migrated away from Winter Falls and that was when she accepted her current job, which required a move to the city where she had lived for the past year. But she had missed her house and the small town atmosphere so she cleverly figured out a way to keep her job and move back home. 

Gemma was the editor and guiding force behind a new book publishing venture. The funding had been raised and employees hired. The stack of manuscripts forwarded from her proof-readers had doubled in size just in the past week, and now her primary responsibility was to find and develop the next Pulitzer prizewinning author. Her beloved boss, who was computer shy, required a considerable amount of convincing, but after seeing the power of electronic mail, he wisely gave his approval for Gemma to work from her home in Winter Falls. Little did he realize how important this decision was to Gemma. Most of the people she had grown up with had moved from Winter Falls to make their way into the world. And most never came back. Gemma knew what she wanted out of life and, Winter Falls was exactly what she needed and where she was going to stay. The house belonged to her parents. It was the same house she had grown up in and she loved it. Besides the luxury of having three bedrooms, there was a huge finished basement which had been a great party room during her teens and was now her office. Here and there throughout the house, her parents had left furnishings that did not fit into their condo at the lake. Each and every piece of furniture held a happy memory for Gemma; the little wicker table and chairs in front of the livingroom window where her dad patiently helped her put puzzles together and later taught her to play gin rummy; the maple harvest table in the kitchen, big enough for her mother to lay out patterns for the prom dresses she made for Gemma, and the walnut cedar chest in her bedroom, filled with her grandmother’s table linens. 

She let her mind wander for a few moments, savouring her memories as she stood looking out the window at the swirling winds of the snowstorm. Moving to the kitchen, she pulled a mug down from the cupboard and began making a cup of hot chocolate, floating a few marshmallows on top. She carried her hot drink to the bedroom, turned on the bedside lamp and placed her mug on the old walnut chest beside her bed. Pulling back the blankets, she crawled under the warm covers, fluffing the pillows behind her back. With a small twinge of guilt, she grabbed her briefcase from beside the bed and placed it on her lap. She opened her most current manuscript, put on her reading glasses and continued with her task where she had left off earlier in the afternoon. 

She loved her job. Reading was one of her favorite pastimes and editing was the perfect job for her. She had always been a stickler for spelling and grammar and credited her love of language in part to all those hours playing word games with her parents. Gemma was delighted to be working from home and communicating with the office by telephone, computer and electronic mail. So far, the trial arrangement was working well and, best of all, every day could be a Casual Friday. Gemma should have known better than to seriously expect to accomplish any reading this late at night, especially after the fresh air, exercise, and excitement of the last few hours. Within moments, the words on the page began to blur together. She looked up from the document that sat in her lap and let out a huge yawn. She had hoped to finish one more chapter before nodding off, but it was no use. She was totally exhausted. Roxy lay curled against her side, snoring softly, head tucked under paw, as if to let Gemma know the light was bothersome.

“I have to get some sleep too, Roxy,” she murmured, returning the manuscript to her briefcase and sliding it back beside the bed. As she turned out the light, she couldn’t help but smile as she contemplated her escapade and wondered how Hvitserk would react, in a few short hours, when he opened his front door. With that amusing thought on her mind, she pulled the covers up around her head, closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.

“I don’t believe it! When I get my hands on her, I’m going to kill her!” Hvitserk was ranting and raving like a wild man. 

“What are you going on about, darling?” Leslie said, coming down the stairs to meet her lover, pulling a soft green sweater over her head, careful not to mess up her exquisitely groomed blonde hair. “Who are you going to kill?” she asked in confusion. Hvitserk ran his hands through his shoulder-length blonde hair in frustration knowing Leslie would hit the roof, not only because the doors were blocked, but because she would now know what he had known for a week – Gemma was back in town. He produced the note from his pocket and showed it to her. Leslie took the piece of paper from his hands, turning away to read it. Her face immediately flushed with anger. She knew who the letter was from without even asking. The one person in this Godforsaken place who could ruin her relationship with Hvitserk – Gemma. 

She liked Gemma about as much as she liked living in this hellhole of a town. For the past eight months she and Hvitserk had been dating and everything was going according to plan. Her scheme was to move in with Hvitserk and then convince him to sell his dilapidated excuse of a house and move to the city where the action was. From that point on, she would work on him until he proposed. Although she hadn’t moved in with him yet, she was spending a great deal of time at his house and little by little leaving more of her clothes in his closet. Now that Gemma was back, Leslie would certainly have to watch her step because Gemma and Hvitserk were such good friends – too close for comfort. They had dated in high school, and Leslie had to admit, Gemma was cute, smart and well liked by everyone. Hvitserk just seemed to like her too damn much! She decided to play it cool. Leslie pulled her face into a smile and turning back to Hvitserk, she was careful not to show her anger. 

“Now Hvitserk, I’m sure she won’t be pulling any of her crazy stunts. After all, Gemma has been away for a long time. She’s likely forgotten about that foolish little feud.” 

“Is that so? Well, come over here and see what she’s done!” His gaze lingered on the door and then he walked over and opened it. “See for yourself.” Leslie peeked over his shoulder. 

“What in the world?” Then she ran to the back of the house. 

“It’s no good, she got to that one too,” he said as he followed her. 

“How the hell am I supposed to get out of here?” she yelled. “I need to go home. I have to go to work!” Hvitserk watched as she ran around in a flurry. 

“Calm down, Leslie. I need you to put on your coat, climb out the window and dislodge some of the snow so we can get out of here. Then I can drive you home.” She looked up at him in disbelief. 

“You want me to climb out the window and do what?” she asked in shock. “That stuff’s turned to ice!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Hvitserk took a deep breath. He loved Leslie, but if there was one thing he would change if he could, it would be her selfish, spoiled attitude. She loved to dress in only the finest clothing and found the thought of any physical activity repulsive. 

“Can you see me trying to get out?” he questioned her. “There’s no way I can fit through any of these windows and I’m not about to jump out a second-story window and break my neck.” Damn that Gemma, she thought to herself, I’m going to get even with her for this! She took a deep breath and with great effort smiled as sweetly as possible before answering.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Let me put my coat and boots on and I’ll get to it.” Hvitserk leaned over and kissed her pretty lips in appreciation. 

“Thanks, Sweetie. I’ll make this up to you.” Then he went to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. 

“How about tonight?” she said over her shoulder, as she moved to the closet to retrieve her coat. 

“What about tonight?” he asked, coming back through the livingroom. 

“How about making it up to me by taking me out to dinner tonight?” she said, never one to miss an opportunity to be wined and dined. Hvitserk helped Leslie into her coat, opened the window and took her hand to help her out. 

“That would be great, but it will have to be after six. I have a late meeting tonight.” 

“No problem.” She kissed him and climbed awkwardly out the window, cursing Gemma under her breath. 

The ringing of the telephone startled Gemma. She reached out from under the covers and grabbed for the receiver. “Hello?” she said in a sleep-laced voice. 

“So, you’re back. You sure delivered your message in an original way.” The voice seemed to waver between annoyance and amusement.

Gemma peered through her half-closed eyelids and looked at the clock on the nightstand. With a groan she read six-fifteen. She rolled over and buried her head back under the covers, hoping the dimwit on the other end would hang up and let her get back to sleep. “Gemma! Wake up! I want to talk to you!” Hvitserk shouted. 

“Not now, Cuddles, I’m tired.” Then she hung up the phone, pushed the ringer to off and buried her head into the pillows once again.


	2. Chapter 2

Gemma slowly opened her eyes, to find her pet’s fluffy head resting in the middle of her chest, using her as a pillow. She squinted at the light as she fought the urge to hide under the covers and go back to sleep. With a groan she rolled over, pushed the blankets aside and sat up, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. Roxy gently pawed at Gemma, informing her that it was time for breakfast. “Give me a few minutes to wake up,” she begged her companion. She reluctantly rose from bed and stood on her tiptoes, stretching the kinks out of her body and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was now after ten and she had slept away half the morning! Gemma remembered she had turned the telephone ringer off, and wondered if her office had tried to reach her. She hadn’t done a lick of work, which meant she’d have to play catch-up for the remainder of the day. Gemma propelled herself into high gear. Quickly selecting her clothes for the day, she hurried into the bathroom. Just as she was climbing out of the shower, the telephone rang. In a flurry, she wrapped a towel around her figure and grabbed the telephone.

“Hello?” she said, hoping it wasn’t her boss. 

A deadpan voice asked, “Did you sleep well?” Gemma smiled broadly as she recognized the voice. 

“Good morning to you too. And yes, I slept very well, except for one annoying telephone call early this morning.” She walked over to the bed and sat down. She had a feeling this conversation might drag on. 

“It didn’t take you very long, did it?” The edge was evident in his tone.

“What didn’t take very long?” she asked innocently, ignoring his indignation. 

“Are we going to play games?” Hvitserk tried to keep his voice light. 

“What game are we talking about?” she asked, laughing out loud. She could almost feel his breath over the telephone wires, his frustration obvious as he tried to maintain a degree of control. “You know, Hvitserk, you haven’t welcomed me home. I’ve been away for a year, or haven’t you noticed?” 

“As a matter of fact, I did notice. It’s been quiet around here,” he said. “Actually the whole neighborhood’s noticed,” he said with obvious sarcasm. 

“That sounds ever so boring,” she chuckled into the phone. “Tell me, what’s been happening with you this past year?” Hvitserk ignored the question, knowing she was trying to avoid admitting to her madcap mission. 

“Come on Gemma,” he pleaded, “please don’t start these foolish pranks again. I was just getting used to not looking over my shoulder every time I turn around. “ 

“Now, Hvitserk, you know better than that. Begging doesn’t work with me.” 

“Yes, I know,” he said, sighing loudly. “And thanks for leaving the note in the window,” he said sarcastically, “otherwise I would never have guessed who was creeping around in the middle of the night barricading my doors with snow.” Gemma was a little puzzled that Hvitserk was not taking her prank with his usual good humor. 

“This is only the beginning, Cuddles. It’s a good thing I moved back to town. Someone has to restore that sense of humor you seem to have lost over the past year.” 

“Gemma, that kind of humor I can do without. Because of you, Leslie had to crawl through the window to leave this morning and believe me, I’m going to pay for it,” he said with a serious tone. 

“Hvitserk, I’m sorry to hear that.” Gemma almost laughed out loud but was able to hold it back. She had been kept up to date on the local scuttlebutt thanks to her best friend, Shannon Williams. Shannon was cute as a button, with long, straight blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and a slim body. They had called each other at least twice a week and had visited on the occasional weekend while Gemma was away. Village gossip travelled like lightning in Winter Falls, and the one bit of news Gemma had found intriguing was that Hvitserk had been dating Leslie Thomas for the last eight months. 

Leslie had elegantly styled, blonde hair and always dressed in the latest style, and if she wasn’t flipping through a fashion magazine, she was shopping for clothes or dabbing at her make-up. Gemma had dated Hvitserk for a short time during high school and Leslie made no effort to conceal her interest in him. She flaunted herself at every opportunity. On the other hand, his genuine friendship with Gemma irked Leslie tremendously. 

“Anyway, listen, I have to go. I just jumped out of the shower.” 

“Gemma, I really don’t…” his voice was growing impatient. She interrupted him abruptly.

“Not now, Cuddles. I don’t have time for a lecture. I’m sitting here in a towel and I’m starting to chill out. Gotta run!” She hung up the telephone. Smiling, she quickly threw on some clothes and hurried around the house doing a quick clean up. In the kitchen, she started the coffee and topped up the dog food before retrieving the latest manuscript she was editing. She spread the paperwork out on the coffee table in the livingroom and was just about to sit down when the telephone rang again. Gemma reached for the receiver. 

“Not now, Cuddles, I’m busy,” she said, ready to hang up. 

“Don’t hang up the phone!” 

“Shannon?” 

“Yes. Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not your buddy, Cuddles. What have you done to poor Hvitserk this time?” she inquired, knowing she likely didn’t want to hear the answer. Shannon was sure Gemma still carried a torch for Hvitserk, but she didn’t tell Gemma about her suspicions. Gemma would realize it soon enough. 

“Who, me?” Gemma started to laugh. “What makes you think I did anything?” she asked, trying hard to be serious.   
Gemma and Shannon had been friends forever yet their personalities were totally opposite. Gemma was the comedian, Shannon the serious one, but like Abbott and Costello, they complemented each other. Shannon gave Gemma the structure she so desperately needed while Gemma showed her friend the lighter side of life. They were always there for each other, through thick and thin, and even though Shannon didn’t get involved in most of the antics, she was often the subtle instigator. 

“I know you too well, Gemma,” scolded her friend. “So tell me.” 

Gemma related the entire escapade, concluding the tale by describing the note saying, “I’m baaack!” By the time Gemma had finished her story, both she and Shannon were in stitches. “See? You found it funny. Why didn’t Hvitserk?” she asked, still chuckling. After pulling herself together, Shannon said,  “Oh Gemma, I’m surprised the poor guy is still sane after all these years.” Then something struck her funny and she started laughing again. 

“Gemma, do you remember that prank you pulled on him in high school?” 

“Which one? There were so many.” 

“You know, the time when the guys were in gym class and we slipped into the men’s change room and switched his underwear for a pair of lace panties!” Laughter erupted from both ends of the telephone line. 

“Do you remember peeking around the corner of the change room as Hvitserk emerged from the showers with a towel wrapped around that muscular body of his? For as long as I live, I’ll never forget the look on his face when he reached into his gym bag and pulled out those black lace panties,” she said, trying to control her laughter. Gemma remembered only too well, and if memory served her, Shannon had masterminded the idea. 

“Yes, but do you remember how he retaliated?” It took Shannon a few seconds to recall and then she burst into laughter again. 

“I can still see your bra dangling from that flag pole! Tell me something, did you ever discover how he managed to get one of your bras?” 

“No, and he won’t tell me, either.” After that prank, Gemma had thought about it for weeks and never did figure out how he managed to steal one of her bras. “Listen Shannon, I have to go. I was up so late last night doing my creative thing that I slept away half the morning. It’s time to get some work done. Why don’t we meet for dinner tonight?” 

“That would be great,” Shannon said. After agreeing on a time and place, Gemma hung up the telephone. Hearing her rustling around in the kitchen, Roxy came sauntering around the corner. “Well, your Majesty, I see you have finally decided to come for breakfast,” she said, leaning over to lay an affectionate hand on the dog’s head. The dog responded with a nuzzle and turned to its waiting meal. Gemma poured herself a mug of coffee and carried it into the livingroom. She picked up the manuscript that lay on the table and sat down on the couch. Looking out the window, she noticed that it had started to snow again, adding more fluff to the already white ground. 

Putting on her reading glasses, she placed the papers on her lap and began to focus on the task at hand. Lost in her work and relishing every word of the story she was editing, she stopped occasionally to stretch and refill her mug. Rather than take a lunch break, she grabbed an apple and a banana from the kitchen and took her lunch back to the editing table. As the lengthening shadows of late afternoon crept across the room, Gemma turned on the light beside her and continued her editing.

At last, she pushed her glasses aside and rubbed her tired eyes. She dropped the manuscript on the couch and got up and stretched, smiling with satisfaction at the amount of work she’d accomplished. Gemma possessed a strong work ethic and was not one to miss a deadline or let her employer down. Her boss was well aware of her dedication and that was a key factor in his decision to allow Gemma to work from her home in Winter Falls. She needed fresh air and exercise, so she pulled on her boots and coat and headed out the door for a walk. At the end of her driveway, she stopped and scanned the horizon. The entire neighborhood was quiet. Everyone was still at work, on their way home or hibernating inside away from the cold. She loved the winter. It was so refreshing. She inhaled the crisp, cool air and started on her way down the street. She just wanted to see if Hvitserk was home, that was all, at least that was what she was telling herself.

As she rounded the corner and sauntered closer to the house, she saw that his car was not in the driveway. With a sigh, she looked around the front yard and let her thoughts drift back to a time when circumstances were different. It was during their high school years that she and Hvitserk had dated. Gemma was a cheerleader and Hvitserk would wait for her after the weekly practice and walk her home. Unfortunately, their dating came to a sudden end when Hvitserk developed a crush on one of the other cheerleaders. Gemma remembered it well because it was the week before her sixteenth birthday when Hvitserk suggested maybe they should cool it for a while, mumbling something about being too young to go steady. She was not one to cry or lament and gracefully agreed not wanting to create a scene. She had too much pride to let on she was hurt, so she buried her grief deep inside. Being popular with both the guys and girls helped immensely and she didn’t spend much time in a blue funk over Hvitserk. He was a great guy and fun to be with, but she never thought of herself as being ‘in love’. After their break up, Gemma and Hvitserk gradually resumed their friendship, pranks and all. And as best friends do, they spent hours on the phone confiding their hopes and dreams, and helping one another through every teenage crisis. 

With a smile, Gemma moved up the walk to see if Hvitserk had cleared the snow from his doorway. Just as she neared the porch, she heard the crunch of tires in the snow as a car approached from the road. She ran and hid by the side of the house as a burgundy sedan pulled into the driveway. She watched Hvitserk climb from his car, reach into the passenger seat for his briefcase, close the car door and hurry up the front walk. Gemma waited until he was about two feet away and then jumped from her hiding place. 

“BOO!” she yelled. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he bellowed, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. “What are you doing?” he shouted once again, trying to catch his breath. Gemma laughed at the expression on his face. His face had gone white from fright and the vein on his forehead was pulsating. 

“Hi!” she said, jumping up into his arms. Hvitserk dropped his briefcase, braced himself and caught her in mid-air. “Gemma, for the love of God, what are you up to now?” he said, still slightly out of breath. He put her down and pried her arms from around his neck. Gemma let him go. The poor man looked as if he had seen a ghost. 

“I was out for a walk, checking out the old neighborhood. Actually, I wandered this way just to be nosy and see how you made out with all the snow from the storm last night,” she said, giving him a playful look. Then she added, “How odd. You sure seem to have an awful lot of snow piled around your door.” Gemma tried to suppress the grin that threatened to explode into laughter. 

“I think maybe a neighbor gave the snow a helping hand,” he said wryly. “Well, Gemma, it’s good to see you, but I can’t stay and talk. I’m in a hurry,” he said leaning over to pick up his briefcase. Then he brushed her aside and moved toward the front door. “Don’t be rude Hvitserk. I was just out for a walk and happened to be over this way and decided to stop and see if you were home.” 

“I’m still a little upset over that stunt you pulled last night,” he said making his way toward the front door once again. 

“How can you be mad about that? I thought it was quite creative,” she said, smiling sweetly. Hvitserk looked into her laughing eyes and for a brief moment, felt a stirring within his chest. A startled expression came over his face, as he realized how attractive she was; wearing no make-up, her cheeks and the tip of her nose red from the cold. No, he had to push these thoughts from his mind. He was with Leslie now and that was that. He turned away from her. The history between Gemma and Hvitserk went way back. When he and Gemma had first met as kids, they played together in the neighborhood but when they entered grade school everything changed. He discovered that girls weren’t as much fun to chum with anymore. Even though he and Gemma kept up the friendship, they were drawn apart by diverging interests. 

Then in high school his hormones starting bouncing off the walls and ‘hanging with girls’ was cool. It was during those first few years of high school that Gemma and Hvitserk began to trade practical jokes. Nothing serious, just silly, good-hearted pranks. They had a lot of fun together, one thing led to another and they dated for a brief while. He knew he hurt Gemma when he broke it off, but he was just a kid at the time. He had apologized to her and she had taken it like a real sport. After high school, everyone went their separate ways; some went to college, some went directly to work and others moved to the city. Thankfully, he and Gemma remained friends and for that, he was grateful. 

“Listen, Gemma, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to hurry and get back to the office for a meeting before dinner. How about we visit sometime this weekend and catch up then?” Gemma looked hurt and turned to go. 

“That’s fine. I have to go anyway.” She started down the driveway. “I’ll see you later,” and with a wave of her hand she was gone. By the time Gemma made it home, she had to hurry and get ready to meet Shannon. She had a quick shower and pulled on a pair of jeans and a red turtleneck sweater, adding gold hoop earrings and gold bangles. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she brushed her hair and became lost in thought, thinking about Hvitserk. A smile spread across her face. Hvitserk was seductively attractive – the kind of man who inspired thoughts of strength, reliability and gentle touches. She liked his muscular build, shoulder-length, straight, blonde hair always pulled back, and best of all, those vibrant green eyes that made his whole face light up when he smiled. 

She impatiently dismissed these thoughts and moved to the bathroom mirror to apply her make-up – a little mascara, a light dusting of blush, pale frosted lipstick with a dab of “Opium” as the finishing touch. Gemma chose a long beige, cashmere coat from the closet and remembered to drop some food into the bowl for Roxy before heading to the garage. Climbing into her car, she flipped on the radio and turned the volume up as she backed down her driveway. She was in a party mood. By the time she reached the restaurant, Shannon was already seated and waiting, looking wonderful as usual in a body-hugging black sweater that accentuated her slim figure. Her straight, blonde hair was swept into an evening style that perfectly suited her pretty face. 

“Hi there, have you been waiting long?” she asked, seating herself across from her friend.

“No, I just arrived five minutes ago.” Shannon reached for her drink and took a cool, refreshing sip. Gemma unfolded her napkin and laid it in her lap, waving to a few people before turning her attention back to her friend. “So what do you feel like tonight?” Shannon inquired, looking around the half-empty room. 

“A man! I feel sexy as hell!” she said, laughing at her own honest admission. 

“Very funny, Smarty Pants. Now what are you going to order?” Shannon asked, picking up her menu and glancing at the selection. “We have a big choice today,” she said. “Chicken or steak, pick one.”

“That’s a tough decision. Let me think about it for a moment. Why don’t I order a drink and we’ll talk a bit, then we can decide.” Gemma waved the waiter over and ordered a coffee and resumed her conversation. “How’s work going?” she asked. 

“Not bad,” Shannon answered, “How’s the editing?” 

“I’m actually quite excited about the new manuscript I’m working on. This young writer shows great promise,” she said, then she abruptly changed the subject. 

“Guess who I saw today?” she asked, with a gleam in her eye. Shannon paused for a moment while the waiter set a drink down in front of Gemma. 

“Gemma, every time you lead with a question like that, I’m afraid to ask. But I’ll take a stab in the dark…” Just then, Shannon raised her eyes and looking over her friend’s shoulder, saw a familiar couple enter the restaurant. “Hvitserk!” she exclaimed. 

“How did you know?” Gemma asked with a look of surprise. 

Shannon lowered her voice. “I mean Hvitserk just came in with Leslie,” she whispered, motioning in the direction of the door. Gemma glanced over her shoulder then turned to Shannon with that mischievous smile and a gleam in her eye that meant trouble. Shannon wondered what was going on in her friend’s pretty head, but knew better than to ask. She picked up her drink and downed it, calling to the waiter for a refill. Gemma waved her hand to catch their attention. 

“Oh, no,” Hvitserk mumbled to himself, trying to look everywhere but at Gemma.

“What’s wrong?” Leslie asked, but before he could answer she looked around the restaurant and found the problem sitting twenty feet away. With a disgusted look she turned to Hvitserk. 

“We’ll just go and say hello and then sit at our own table.” Leslie didn’t say a word as she followed him toward Gemma.


	3. Chapter 3

Leslie forced a smile and stood behind Hvitserk as they said their hellos before selecting a table as far away from Gemma and Shannon as possible. Hvitserk pulled out a chair for Leslie and sat opposite her. 

“Tell me something.” Hvitserk shifted slightly in his chair. “What is it that you two have against each other?” he asked, waving the waiter over to their table. 

“We just don’t see eye to eye,” she said, feeling safe with her answer. Hvitserk decided to let the topic drop and try to enjoy the remainder of the evening. Gemma and Shannon caught up on all the local gossip while they enjoyed their salads. Occasionally, Gemma would turn around and glance at Hvitserk and Leslie across the room. She just couldn’t understand what the two of them had in common. He was generous, she was selfish; he was open and honest, she was devious. 

Gemma slowly leaned over and whispered to her friend,  “It must be the sex.” Shannon sputtered on the food she was about to swallow and grabbed for a napkin to cover her mouth. She took a few seconds to regain her composure and then, giving Gemma a puzzled look, asked, “What are you talking about?” 

“I have been watching the two of them and I’m trying to figure out what they have in common. I just can’t come up with anything.” She took a deep breath and resumed her line of reasoning. “They don’t even look as if they are enjoying themselves.” 

Shannon cautiously glanced around to the table where Leslie and Hvitserk sat having their drinks and talking quietly. “Tell me something,” she asked, “why are you thinking about them?” Gemma shrugged her shoulders. 

“I don’t know, just curious.” 

“Come on Gemma, what gives?” she said, giving her friend a knowing look. Gemma let her eyes roam over the room one last time before attempting to answer the question. Hvitserk and Leslie were sitting across from each other holding hands. An uncomfortable sensation swept over Gemma that felt an awful lot like jealousy. She didn’t know what to say to Shannon, so she just looked at her friend and shrugged her shoulders. For the first time in her life, she was lost for words. As the women resumed their conversation, soft music began drifting through the restaurant - a haunting melody that sang to the soul. It was a love song of flowing words about the passions and desires of the heart. Hand-in-hand, an attractive couple stood and walked toward the back of the restaurant to the small dance floor. They danced slowly, as if in a trance, two bodies wrapped into one, gently moving to the music. Gradually, others joined the lone couple until the dance floor was a sea of swaying bodies.

The second long island iced tea lifted Gemma back into a party mood. Her high spirit was in full swing again. With a grin and that gleam in her eye, Gemma drained her glass, set it down on the table with a flourish and abruptly pushed back her chair.  “Gemma, where are you going?” Shannon asked, as she watched her friend rise from her chair and walk towards Hvitserk and Leslie. 

“Gemma!” she said, in a loud whisper. “Get back here!” 

It was too late. She wouldn’t stop. Shannon rested her head in her hands, refusing to watch. Gemma slowly walked toward the far end of the restaurant. Her heart beat wildly. She could feel each pulse as she neared the table. Hvitserk spotted Gemma moving toward them and dreaded what was about to happen. She was up to something; he could see it in her eyes, that bold mischievous look that made his spine tingle every time she was about to do something wild and crazy. 

“Leslie,” she said, very sweetly, “would you mind if I borrow Hvitserk for a dance?” 

Leslie looked up, trying to conceal her anger. Then she turned to Hvitserk, hating what she knew she must say, but knowing that if she protested it would create a scene. She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s fine with me,” she said through gritted teeth. 

Hvitserk looked back and forth between the two women in an attempt to figure out what was going on. He felt an invisible force that was slowly sucking him somewhere he didn’t want to go. Leaving Leslie with a quick kiss on her soft lips he stood up. Taking Gemma by the hand he practically dragged her to an empty space on the dance floor. Hvitserk put one hand on her waist and took her hand in his, holding her at a distance, but Gemma wouldn’t have it. She wound her arms behind his neck and crossed them, pulling Hvitserk against her warm body. Hip to hip, thigh to thigh, they danced to the seductive music. The song was about the mending of broken hearts… “Work like you don’t need the money; Love like you’ve never been hurt; Dance like no one’s watching”… words to live by, Gemma thought. Hvitserk tried to breathe normally. With each movement he could feel her body move closer, like a python preparing its victim. Her hardened nipples rubbed against his chest each time he took a much needed breath of air. He felt his heart quicken as it pounded against his ribs like a well-worn drum. 

“Gemma, what’s going on?” he asked, his mouth close to her ear. “What’s with this game?” He slowly spun her around, cautiously glancing over at Leslie. Her face was scarlet with anger and embarrassment. Hvitserk knew he was in deep trouble. All he wanted to do was end the dance and get on with his evening with Leslie. Gemma laid her head on his shoulder, positioning her lips a breath away from his neck, her hair gently brushing against his cheek. Without missing a beat, she answered him.

“I’m not up to anything,” she said innocently. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I just wanted a dance with my buddy. Is there any crime in that?” He didn’t believe her – not in a New York minute. 

“Wrong answer,” he said. Gemma brushed her warm, wet lips against his neck. “Gemma, stop that!” he pleaded, glancing again at Leslie to see if she was watching. Her eyes glared back at him. She hadn’t missed a thing. Gemma moved her lips ever so slowly along his neck once again. 

“That bothers you?” she said, in a slow sultry voice, with a trace of humor. 

“Damn it, yes!” he hissed. She laughed softly, feeling his heart pounding against hers. Suddenly, Gemma felt a warm glow spreading throughout her body. His heat was igniting a fire between them and her hands suddenly seemed clammy. This was supposed to be a joke to unnerve Leslie, but the joke had come full circle. She couldn’t believe the feelings that were surging through her and the reaction she was having to the closeness of his body, the smell of his cologne and the seductive rhythm of his movements. She repositioned herself slightly, trying to put some space between their bodies. As soon as the music stopped, Gemma immediately dropped her arms but continued to hold Hvitserk with her eyes. For a few seconds their eyes locked, both aware of the passion that still flowed between them. 

“Behave yourself,” Hvitserk said, breaking the tension that swirled around them. 

“I always do,” she laughed, brushing her hair back from her warm forehead. Hvitserk turned to her, raising an eyebrow. 

“When do you behave?” 

“Every second Tuesday,” Gemma answered with a smile. Taking her arm, Hvitserk walked her back to her table, acknowledging Shannon with a brief hello and turned to leave.   
“Oh, Hvitserk!” Gemma called, with just enough gusto that others around them could hear. “Why don’t you pop over for dinner sometime?” Hvitserk continued in the direction of his table while shaking his head in frustration. Shannon couldn’t believe what she had just witnessed. She was shocked at the blatant way Gemma had flirted with Hvitserk. 

“What the heck was that about?” she questioned her friend, still not sure what Gemma was up to. Gemma looked at the plate of food that had arrived while she was preoccupied on the dance floor. 

“What do you mean?” 

“That little scene out there!” Shannon said, pointing in the direction of the dance floor. 

“I danced with an old friend. Is there a law against that?” 

“My God, Gemma, you were all over him!” she said “And what was that look you shared when you were finished dancing?” 

“What are you talking about? What look?” Gemma was unexpectedly shaken by her reaction during her dance with Hvitserk and she knew her face was flushed. 

“God, Gemma, it looked as if you were about to do it on the dance floor! Leslie was looking daggers at you and I can’t blame her.” Gemma turned her attention from her friend’s inquisition and looked over her shoulder at the couple across the room. They seemed to be in a heated discussion. A tiny tinge of guilt ran through Gemma. Maybe she had overdone it, just a bit. Then she turned back to Shannon. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, it was just a dance.” Silently, she dared her friend to ask another question. Shannon raised her hands in defeat. 

“Okay, I give up, I just hope you know what you’re doing.” For the rest of the meal they laughed and carried on. Neither one mentioned the little performance on the dance floor as they indulged in decadent triple layer chocolate cake and finished their evening with coffee. An hour slipped by before Gemma and Shannon walked to their cars, hugging each other good-bye and promising to get together again soon. 

Hvitserk paced back and forth across the floor of his livingroom. He had been home for over an hour and was now more irritated than when he had arrived. After leaving the restaurant, he and Leslie continued their rip-roaring fight. He had never seen her so mad, going on and on about Gemma this and Gemma that until finally he told her she was being childish and he wouldn’t listen to it anymore. Big mistake! Leslie launched into yet another tirade. There were a few things about Leslie that bothered Hvitserk and it became painfully obvious as the evening wore on. The most annoying thing was her vicious temper and lack of understanding. He tried to apologize but she refused to listen. He agreed that Gemma had gone overboard but that was no reason for Leslie to go on like a raving lunatic. Also, the way Leslie tried to control and manipulate him was beginning to irritate him. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was a control freak. After they had argued in the car for over an hour, Hvitserk had driven Leslie home and dropped her off, speeding away without bothering to kiss her goodnight as she slammed her way out of the car. His thoughts turned to Gemma. 

There was that moment when he held Gemma in his arms and felt his heart race. Hvitserk had never before experienced that feeling with Gemma. He also could not rid himself of the thought of her firm breasts pushing against his chest or how her body fit perfectly against his as they floated slowly across the dance floor. His emotions still reeling with confusion, he placed his hand where Gemma had brushed her lips against his neck. For a moment on that dance floor, he had almost given into temptation. He wanted so desperately to kiss her. 

“Damn her!” he cursed out loud. He continued to pace the floor, trying to interpret his feelings. Then he began to feel guilty. If his love for Leslie was solid, why did he react so strongly to Gemma? Why did it feel so good to draw her body close to his and why did it feel so familiar, so comfortable, so right? Maybe he needed some fresh air to clear his mind. He walked to the kitchen and made some coffee, pouring the warm liquid into a large thermos mug. His thoughts were elsewhere as he pressed the lid tightly into place. After pulling on his boots, coat and gloves he opened the door and slammed it shut behind him, entering into the cool, dark, wintry evening. 

It was snowing again, not heavily, just soft little snowflakes that danced and sparkled in the air as they floated to the ground. Taking the shovel in his hands, he walked around to the back of the house and started to clear away the snow that Gemma had piled at the back door. His face broke into a grin. He had to admit, when all was said and done, it was a funny prank. He finished clearing the back steps and felt good about having worked through some of his frustration. Then he began to make his way toward the front of the house. Through the clearing, he watched the figure of a woman walking toward him. Laying the shovel aside, he uncapped his coffee and took a deep swallow, letting the warm liquid heat his insides, displacing the chill. 

Shortly after arriving home from dinner, Gemma pulled a bottle of mineral water from the fridge and tried to edit the manuscript she had started earlier, but after an hour she laid the papers aside. She was reading the same line over and over again and not seeing the words. She paced around the house feeling alert and awake which surprised her because an evening with Shannon was a sure cure for insomnia. She stood in front of the kitchen window thinking about her reaction to Hvitserk. A shiver ran through her body as she remembered his voice imploring her to stop moving her mouth against his neck. She never really thought of his voice as being sexy – annoying maybe – but definitely not sexy. But sexy it was, and laced with passion, when he whispered into her ear on the dance floor. As she let the scene unfold in her mind, it brought a rush of desire that centered somewhere below her stomach. It was time for either a cold shower or a long walk. 

Gemma moved toward the door and quickly threw on her coat and boots to go for a walk that she knew would lead her down the street where Hvitserk lived. She wasn’t even sure if he’d be home or cared to see her after the stunt she’d pulled at the restaurant. The cool night air helped energize Gemma as she moved toward the form that stood illuminated by the porch light. She had not expected Hvitserk to be outside and as she drew nearer, the tension was evident. He turned and glared angrily as Gemma approached. For a moment, as she came closer, she thought about turning and running home. She couldn’t bear it if Hvitserk was so angry with her that it ended their friendship and she was sure that fear showed on her face. She avoided his eyes and looked around the yard. 

“So what’s going on?” she asked, still not looking at him. Hvitserk chose his words carefully. The wounds were still fresh from his exchange with Leslie. 

“Good question,” he said, slowly. “But how do I answer it? That’s the real question.” He looked around the yard then glanced down at the ground before raising his head to look at Gemma. Her head was lowered as she dug in the snow with the toe of her boot, not wanting to be caught staring into his spellbinding, green eyes. Finally Gemma looked up and met his gaze and for a moment, she sensed the same electric emotion that he tried so hard to conceal during their dance. 

“I see you finally got around to shoveling the snow,” she said, trying to ease the tension. 

“Yup,” was all he said as he capped his thermos and walked towards the end of the driveway, leaving her standing alone. Gemma watched him move away and then something sprang from inside and her bravado came rushing back like a storm in the night. She squared her shoulders and marched after him. He knew she would follow him. She was like an annoying fly, buzzing around his head; shoo her away but eventually she would be back to pester him once again. 

“Hvitserk, are you mad at me for some reason?” she questioned him. 

“Now why would I be mad at you?” 

“I don’t know,” she answered. “You tell me.” 

“What was going on at the restaurant?” he asked, as he dug his shovel in the snow and flung its contents towards the road. 

“What, the dance? Or the dirty looks I was getting from Leslie?” She was becoming deliberately obnoxious and his frustration was becoming increasingly apparent. 

“Come on Gemma, stop trying to be funny and answer the question. What was going on when you asked me to dance - hold on, let me rephrase that - what was going on when we were dancing?” He stopped shovelling for a moment and looked at her, surveying her curvaceous frame, picture perfect, with her hair peeking from beneath her hat. She was standing there shuffling her feet in the snow. Gemma stopped fidgeting and peered at him as she considered being evasive again. Her better judgement prevailed and she decided to tell the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it made her feel. She took a deep breath. 

“I don’t know, but while we were dancing, I felt something…” 

“Yeah, you felt the need to stir up trouble!” he said, trying to ignore the message she was sending.

“Well, yes, that too. Hvitserk, I’m really sorry if I caused problems between you and Leslie. Blame it on a few drinks, but I felt this – kind of attraction for you when we were dancing and that confused me. I mean think about it…you must admit it’s rather strange.” 

“Well, thanks a lot!” He dropped his shovel and marched over to where she was standing. “You find me unattractive, a bozo maybe?” Gemma started to laugh at him. She had hurt his feelings and it was obvious. 

“Hvitserk, I didn’t mean it like that!” she said, laughing harder. Hvitserk leaned over and all in one motion picked up some snow, formed a snowball and heaved it at Gemma. It hit her square in the face. The laughter died. Gemma reached out and cleaned the snow from her forehead and slowly bent over, reaching for a handful of snow.

“Gemma!” he said, warning her. “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to hit you in the face!” The anger was forgotten now. 

“Accident my ass!” she said, piling the snow higher in her hands. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” Then he took off in a sprint, running as fast as he could around the corner of his house. Not to be outdone, Gemma followed in hot pursuit with two handfuls of snow. 

“Hvitserk, now it’s my turn!” she yelled into the night. She rounded the corner of the house. Gemma couldn’t see a thing in the darkness that covered the backyard like a blanket. Cautiously, she took another step, careful not to make a noise. Laugher erupted from the darkness as Hvitserk attacked Gemma once again. This time the snowball hit her in the back. She fell face first in the snow and laid still. Slowly, a devious smile spread across her face as she gradually began to wheeze. For a few seconds, Hvitserk listened to her laboured breathing before fear replaced his amusement. He found Gemma lying face down in the snow next to the back steps. She was barely breathing. 

“Oh God, I’m sorry Gemma!” he said, rolling her over onto her back. She kept her eyes closed as he leaned over and put his ear next to her chest. The seconds seemed like minutes. She waited until he was positioned exactly where she wanted him and then she clasped her legs around him and flipped him over onto his back. Gemma was left conveniently perched on top of Hvitserk and a victorious grin graced her face. 

“I flipped you like a cheese omelette!” she said triumphantly. “I’ve got you now!” She then began to shove snow down his neck while he frantically tried to push her away. Hvitserk seemed genuinely stunned by her new-found life and his sudden predicament. 

“Gemma! Enough!” he yelled at her. “That was dirty!” he said, laughing while trying to brush the snow from around his collar. She leaned over until their noses touched. 

“Are you cold?” she taunted, still refusing to budge from atop her throne. The melting snow was now beginning to flow down around his chest but its iciness did nothing to quench the fire that was developing below. He didn’t say a word, just looked into her sparkling eyes. He leaned slightly upward and brought their lips together. Her eyes widened in surprise, as the same excitement she’d experienced earlier on the dance floor, flowed through her body. Gemma closed her eyes and let the kiss happen.


	4. Chapter 4

The passion was frantic, almost desperate, as they moved their heads from side to side trying to position for a perfect fit. Hvitserk wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer to him. For a moment he thought about stopping this madness, but it felt too damn good. Almost as if by instinct, Hvitserk rolled over, tucking her beneath him. Hardness against softness. Heat against heat. A small groan escaped his lips as he pushed his desire against her, trying to ease his heaviness. He moved his tongue around the edge of her lips, loving the sweet taste. Gemma ripped off her mittens and threw them aside, running her fingers through his shoulder-length, blonde hair, then placing them on his back pulling him closer. 

“You taste so good,” he groaned, as he moved his hands between their bodies to unzip her jacket. In the quietness of the night, the zipper hissed and slowly spread apart. He reached under her sweater and touched her heavenly breasts. From deep within, Gemma shuddered as he took her nipples between his fingers and felt the stiffness that signalled her growing passion. Not once did either of them think of Leslie as they were swept away by this sudden and unexpected passion flooding their bodies and senses, robbing them of any ability to control their actions. 

Hvitserk pushed her sweater up and Gemma caught her breath as he placed his warm, moist mouth against her breast. Spirals of pleasure coursed through her igniting flames of desire. Everywhere his hands and mouth touched, tiny sparks erupted into full-blown infernos. To her amazement, she found herself moaning and arching her body to meet his, her mounting desire carrying her away. Gemma wanted him more than she’d wanted any man before, but not like this – not like a couple of teenagers floundering in the snow. She had to make love to him slowly and gently. 

With a desperate, needy voice, she pleaded, “Hvitserk, can we move inside? Wouldn’t your house be better…” her voice trailing away as she felt Hvitserk suddenly withdraw. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him. He froze. 

“Oh, no!” he said, in a muffled voice. His words vibrated across the valley of her breasts. He pulled her sweater back into place and lifted himself from her, relieving her of his weight. Quickly he turned his back, adjusting his clothes. 

“No?” she echoed. Gemma lay there looking up at the snow that was still falling, overcome with desire and unnerved by his unexpected retreat. She stood up and brushed away the snow that was clinging to her clothing. Her hands were shaking and her breath still rapid. “What’s wrong Hvitserk?” she asked, as she stood in front of him. He took a deep breath and moved away from her. She was standing too close for comfort. Suddenly he felt angry. 

“Do you know what was about to happen?” posing the question as if she didn’t have a clue. 

“I’m not stupid, Hvitserk!” she shouted back. “And why are you yelling at me?” 

“Because you’re mostly responsible, the way you came on to me earlier tonight, then marching over here.” 

“Excuse me, but you were the one who kissed me first!” She watched him move around the yard like a caged animal while she retrieved her mittens from the snow and zipped up her jacket. 

“Yeah, well, you didn’t exactly object, did you?” he stammered, feeling a little foolish. 

“I didn’t have my head under your sweater, did I?” Gemma exclaimed, poking him in the chest with her finger, further emphasizing her point. Hvitserk stopped for a moment and took a few long deep breaths, contemplating how to bring the situation under control. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He was in love with another woman, one who loved him unconditionally. Here he was making out with a friend like a dog in heat. It had been a year since he had last seen Gemma and he had forgotten how exciting she could be. But that was no excuse for his actions. 

“I’m sorry Gemma, I got carried away. I was out of line,” he said with a sigh as he started to walk toward the front of the house. 

“Hold on a second, buster!” she said, stopping him dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around. 

“What?” he said through gritted teeth. “What do you expect me to do? You know my situation.” Her eyes widened in anger. The nerve of him, getting mad – as if she planned and instigated this whole charade. 

“I’m getting tired of taking all the blame!” she yelled. “You didn’t seem to mind and I certainly didn’t hold a gun to your head.” 

“No!” he bellowed back. “But you didn’t stop me either!” 

“The last time I looked, you were an adult!” Her expression had suddenly changed from astonishment to anger. 

“Which is more than I can say about your antics lately!” Gemma was fuming now, getting madder by the minute. 

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you when you were sprawled all over me!”

He continued to move away from her and shouted over his shoulder, “I’m going for a walk, or finish clearing the driveway or whatever I was doing before you came along!” He continued to move away from her. 

“I’m surprised you can walk at all!” she said with sarcasm. He stopped momentarily, but didn’t look back at her. Several loud, angry words filtered back through the night air as he rounded the corner of the house away from Gemma. Hvitserk walked over to the shovel and picked it up. He began clearing his driveway, throwing snow in every direction, hoping to work off the anger, guilt and confusion that consumed him. 

“How the hell did I get into this mess?” he grumbled to himself. “She’s got to be the most infuriating woman on the face of this earth!” It was just his luck that they had to be neighbors. Actually, they weren’t neighbors but their properties connected in a kitty corner fashion but Gemma always referred to him as a neighbor – just next door. Sometimes he wished he lived in the next county. Maybe he could just put up a fence, a great big tall one. Hvitserk increased the pace of his shoveling hoping to work off more steam. Gemma was still standing at the back of the house muttering to herself something about stupid, foolish men. The more she thought about it the madder she became. She couldn’t believe that he blamed her. She walked back and forth across the yard wearing a path in the snow until dead dry grass peeked out from the ground below. She didn’t dare confront Hvitserk until she had thought this through. She was angry with Hvitserk and upset with herself for her passionate response to his advances, and yet she knew she was disappointed and hurt at the same time. She paced back and forth until she was a little calmer. 

Finally, her body stopped trembling, her hands stopped shaking and her breathing returned to normal. Then she approached Hvitserk. After battling with two women this evening, and being so suddenly and inexplicably thrust into a steamy encounter with someone he considered a friend, Hvitserk was confused and worried. He had enjoyed the peace and quiet of the last few minutes, listening to the night air blowing gently through the trees, while trying to come to grips with the events of this crazy evening. The peace didn’t last long. He took a deep, shaky, breath listening to the crunch of snow as Gemma approached from the backyard. She walked closer and closer. His body grew tense as she stopped two feet in front of him. He dug the shovel into the snow, folded his arms and leaned against the handle. A weary sigh floated from his lips at the prospect of yet another battle. Gemma stood motionless, feeling her heart pound within her chest. She closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated, hoping to gain some semblance of control. Cautiously, she reached out her hand to place it on his, but then changed her mind and quickly pulled back. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked nervously, as she moved from one foot to the other. Hvitserk stared off into the night, not sure he wanted to get into it again, but something in her voice compelled him. He slowly turned to face her and looking deep into her hazel eyes, began to feel uncomfortable. They both had looks of guilt written across their faces. Where to start, she thought as she stood before him. She had already contemplated what she wanted to say, but the words had somehow disappeared. She squared her shoulders and jumped in with both feet. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, “for my part in this whole mess. Why don’t we try to forget what happened and never mention it again?” She stuck out her hand. “Agreed?” 

Hvitserk stood there looking at her. Part of him was thankful she was making the first move, but part of him was confused as hell. He stood there wondering what would happen if Leslie ever found out. Another pang of guilt swept through him. He ran his hands across his face trying to clear his head and reached to grasp her hand. 

“Agreed. I was out of line Gemma, and I feel guilty as hell about Leslie.” 

“Come on, Hvitserk, think about it for a minute. We kissed, nothing really happened.” She saw the expression on his face. “Okay,” she said with a small grin, “it was a little more than a kiss, but it’s over and done with and it won’t happen again, right? I was at fault too. Let’s just forget this night ever happened.” 

“I sure wish it hadn’t,” Hvitserk said, shoving his hands as far down into his pockets as they would go and hunching his shoulders. “From start to finish, this whole evening has been a bad scene, and I feel like the biggest jerk in the universe. Now I’m taking that walk. I’m so sorry Gemma. Good night.” Gemma felt terrible about what had happened. She watched as he strode further and further down the street. She waited until she could no longer see him before she turned to leave. Tears filled her eyes as she walked along the line of pine trees that separated their houses. She wasn’t sure if the tears running down her cheeks were from guilt or because of her strong feelings that had now become so obvious. Feelings that were going nowhere. As a couple, they were a lost cause. He had made it clear that he intended to honor his commitment to Leslie and Gemma would respect that, not that she liked it, but she would abide by his decision. 

She felt things for Hvitserk she had never known before, things that she needed to keep to herself. Suddenly the dam opened wide as the tears ran faster and faster, mixing with the gentle snowflakes resting on her cheeks. A tortured sob tore from her chest as she rounded the path to her house, running now, to get to the comfort of her home. Once inside, she slammed the door as hard as she could, shaking the whole house. She ripped off her coat and boots and ran to the bathroom. Pulling off her wet clothes and throwing them in the corner, she jumped into the shower. Gemma adjusted the faucets to make hot, steaming water and stood trembling under the soothing spray. Life slowly returned to her frozen limbs as the water cascaded down her body. When she could feel her fingers and toes again, she turned the water off, pulled the curtain aside and reached for the towel that hung beside the shower. Flinging the towel around her curvaceous body, she walked into her bedroom and pulled on a fluffy flannel nightdress. Roxy walked slowly around the corner into the room.

“Come here baby,” Gemma cooed. The dog came toward her outstretched arms. “At least I have someone to come home to,” she said, as she leaned down and hugged her friend. “Come on, I’ll get you something to eat.” She walked to the kitchen with Roxy at her side. After settling her pet, Gemma made herself a hot cup of tea and carried it to the livingroom. She pulled the quilt off the back of the couch and wrapped herself in it like a warm, safe cocoon. Roxy followed her into the livingroom a few minutes later. It was bedtime for Roxy and the dog was becoming restless and wanted Gemma to go to bed. “I know baby,” she said, gently rubbing her dog’s ears, “but I’m not tired.” She picked up the remote control and turned on the television, flicking through the channels until she found an old 50’s movie. She pulled Roxy over and cuddled. Just as the movie was about to begin, the phone rang. She looked at the clock on the wall – it was almost midnight. Who would be calling at this time of night she wondered, as she pushed the blanket aside and heaved herself up from the couch. 

“Hello?” she said. When Hvitserk heard her voice he had second thoughts and was about to hang up, but something forced him to finish what he had started. “Hello?” Gemma said again. She was about to hang up the phone when a familiar voice flowed over the telephone line. 

“Hi,” Hvitserk said softly. “How are you?” Gemma cleared her throat. 

“I’m fine now that I’ve had a hot shower and the feeling has returned to my butt.” She heard a small chuckle come from the other end of the line. “How about you?” 

“Well, I went for a long walk and I think you’re right. We’ll just forget about what happened and keep it to ourselves. I’m not sure how we got so hot and heavy but let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again. And Gemma, I am really sorry. Will you accept my apology for acting like such a jerk tonight?” 

“You’re forgiven, Hvitserk,” she said, a little disappointed that he could so easily put their passionate encounter out of his mind. “I’m in the middle of a movie. I’ll talk to you later.” She started to hang up the phone. 

“Hang on a minute, Gemma. What’s playing?” he asked. 

“What?” 

“The movie, what is it?” he asked. 

“Splendor in the Grass”. There was a pause. Hearing her voice, Hvitserk felt reluctant to end the call. Softly he laughed. “What’s so funny?” Gemma didn’t feel like laughing. 

“Excuse the weak attempt at humor, but is the sequel “Splendour in the Snow”? 

“Well, that’s all forgotten now,” Gemma replied, unable to summon up any sign of amusement.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Hvitserk was still unable to let her go.

“Good night Hvitserk,” she said softly, barely above a whisper. He sighed, 

“Good night Gemma,” finally hanging up the phone and leaving her alone once again. Gemma crawled back under the blanket, crying. She wiped away the teardrops and settled in to watch the movie. While the images on the screen loved, laughed and discovered true love, scenes from earlier in the evening played and replayed in her mind, creating her own private show in which she and Hvitserk were the main characters. Gemma wasn’t watching the movie, she was staring at the screen, lost in her own story, a story without a happy ending.


	5. Chapter 5

Someone was pounding at the front door. Startled from her short and restless sleep, Gemma rolled over and landed on the floor with a thud, the quilt tangled around her legs. Every muscle in her body ached from sleeping on the couch. Groaning, she lifted herself off the floor. The person on the other side of the door was persistent, Gemma thought, as she ambled to the kitchen where she glanced at the wall clock.

“Hold your horses!” she yelled. The clock read six o'clock. “Who the heck would be at my door at this time in the morning?” she mumbled, as Roxy scurried behind her. Gemma, still half-asleep, unlocked the front door and yanked it open.

“Well, good morning Sunshine,” Shannon said sweetly, as she brushed past Gemma and stepped into the front hallway, making herself at home. She pulled off her coat and boots and headed for the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Shannon didn’t want to say another word until she’d had at least one fresh coffee to activate her senses. What she was about to tell Gemma was going to knock her socks off. Gemma watched as Shannon made for the kitchen. A cold draft blew through the partially open front door as she stood in the foyer, staring at her friend. Something was up. Shannon never dropped in unannounced, particularly so early in the morning. It must be something especially important she thought, as she pushed the front door shut and followed Shannon.

“Ahhh, Shannon,” she said slowly. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes I do,” she said, turning around and smiling at Gemma. It was a smile that said I-know-something-you-don’t-know, the kind of smile Shannon always used just before revealing a juicy bit of gossip. Shannon looked at Gemma. Her eyes were red and blotchy. “What happened to you, girl? You look like something the dog dragged in!” Shannon glanced over at Roxy and said, “Of course, all due respect to present company.” Gemma let the remark go, pretending she didn’t hear it. She wasn’t in the mood to discuss what had happened last night. She and Hvitserk had promised to keep it between the two of them and that’s the way it would stay. She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and ignored the question.

“What gives?” Gemma asked curiously, leaning her tired body against the kitchen doorway.

“Well, you’re not going to believe…” Shannon stopped herself in mid-sentence. “Hold on, you’re still half asleep! Before we get into this, why don’t you throw on some clothes and by then I’ll have a steamy cup of java ready. You’re going to want to sit and talk about this. So go…” This morning, of all mornings, a friend to share coffee with sure sounded great. With a look of gratitude Gemma turned and moved quickly to her bedroom. She pulled on a pair of grey slacks, a cream cable knit sweater and thick, grey socks. Quickly putting on a pair of small, gold earrings, she examined her reflection for a moment before washing her face, finishing with a splash of cold water in an attempt to reduce the puffiness around her eyes. She ran a brush through her hair, which brought back the shine and bounce, and applied a little frosted lipstick after brushing her teeth. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee began to drift into the bathroom, and when she returned to the kitchen she found Shannon sitting comfortably at the table sipping a coffee. She pulled a chair out and sat down, looking across the table at her smiling friend. Gemma picked up the mug of coffee Shannon had poured for her and took a gulp, wincing slightly as the hot liquid burned the back of her throat.

“Okay Shannon, what’s up?” she asked, prompting Shannon to begin. Shannon put her cup down on the table and leaned toward Gemma. It almost killed her not to call last night, but she wanted to tell Gemma this bit of news in person. Shannon liked to gossip, and she couldn’t sleep last night just thinking about it. This was something that Gemma had to know. Gemma felt a slight surge of excitement run through her as she waited patiently for the story to begin. “Come on Shannon! I’m dying of curiosity!” she pleaded. Shannon laughed at her.

“Okay, okay. Last night, after we left the restaurant, I decided to take the long way home so I could pick up some bagels for breakfast. After that coffee we had, I was feeling energized, to say the least. Anyway, I pulled into the little coffee shop off the highway, you know the one I mean, the one with those world famous bagels,” she explained. Gemma shook her head in response and waited for her to continue. “Well, this is where the story gets a little more exciting. You’ll never guess who I saw!” It was too early in the morning to be playing games and after a night like last night, Gemma really wasn’t in the mood for this guessing game.

“I don’t know,” she responded in a tired voice. “Who?”

Shannon could hardly contain herself, “Leslie!” Gemma let out a sigh, showing her obvious disappointment with the way the story was evolving.

“Shannon, hopefully you didn’t rush over here this morning just to tell me that?” she said dryly. She stood up and walked to the counter and began refilling their coffee mugs.

“But here’s the good part – she wasn’t alone. She was with some guy and they weren’t drinking coffee!” Gemma stopped in her tracks, turning to look at Shannon, her mouth open and her eyes the size of saucers.

“Oh no, you’re kidding, right?” Gemma slid back into her chair ready to hear more. Shannon laughed at the expression on her face.

“She was necking like crazy with this guy in the front seat of his car and I’m damn sure he wasn’t from around here,” Shannon said, singing out the words. Gemma was shocked and speechless. She sat there staring at Shannon.

“Are you positive it was her? Maybe it was someone who looked like her.” Gemma could only hope that it was all a mistake. Shannon raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips.

“Come on Gemma. Is it really that hard to believe that Leslie would mess around on Hvitserk?”

“Well, no, but are you sure? “A part of Gemma was hoping it was true but she quickly pushed the thought aside.

“When I saw them together, I went into the shop and sat by the window with a coffee. I didn’t take my eyes off the car they were in. Just before I left, Leslie pried herself from the mystery man and stepped from his car, jumped into her own jalopy and drove away following him out of the parking lot. It was Leslie alright, and I’m telling you, she was acting like she knew him really well, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh my God!” Gemma stood up and started pacing around the kitchen table. “What are you going to do?”

“Me?” Shannon blurted in disbelief. “I’m not going to do anything, but I think you should tell Hvitserk.”

“Oh no, not me.” Shannon didn’t know what had happened last night with Hvitserk, and under the circumstances, Gemma had no intention of being the bearer of bad news. “Besides, he likely wouldn’t believe me anyway after my antics at the restaurant. He’d think I was just up to one of my crazy stunts.” She stood up and placed her hands on her hips, trying to think clearly. Her head started pounding. “There must be something we can do,” she said, walking to the kitchen window and gazing out. She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t tell him. If Leslie was cheating on Hvitserk, he’d find out sooner or later. After all, this was a very small town. Gemma walked back to the kitchen table and sat down, deep in thought. She drummed her fingers on the table and stared at the wall. Shannon sat looking at her friend, hoping she would come up with an idea.

“Okay,” Gemma said at last, “here’s what we’re going to do.” Shannon was all ears, her blue eyes widened.

“What?”

“Nothing, we’re going to do absolutely nothing. Leslie is being foolish and reckless, so I think it’s best we leave things alone. If you saw her at the coffee shop, others probably did as well. Hvitserk is bound to find out soon enough. Let it come from someone else, not us.” Her expression did not relay the conviction of her words. “Shannon, I just don’t want to be blamed for causing trouble, and if it turns out there’s an explanation or if Hvitserk chooses to believe whatever excuse Leslie comes up with, then we’ll both be in his bad books. You know…he’ll shoot the messengers.” Shannon couldn’t believe that Gemma was letting this slide, as she walked over to the sink and dumped the rest of her coffee down the drain. She rinsed her mug and placed it on the counter.

“Okay, but I’m dying to find out who this guy is. I might play detective with this one. Do you want to help?” Shannon asked. It was tempting, but Gemma shook her head, refusing.  
“No, I’m going to stay out of it, but if you need someone to listen to all the gory details, I’m the gal for the job!” Shannon laughed as she walked over to the door and pulled on her coat and boots.

“Why don’t we get together for lunch today?”

“That sounds great. Let’s meet at the deli around one.”

“Fine. I’ll see you later.” Then with a wave of her hand she walked to her car, got in and drove away, leaving Gemma standing in the doorway, her mind racing with unanswered questions about Leslie and the Mystery Man. Gemma quickly closed the door against the cold wind and busied herself in the livingroom tidying up. She thought about what Shannon had said as she folded the quilt and placed it on the back of the sofa. Anger welled up inside her. She thought about Hvitserk and how he would react when he discovered that Leslie was two-timing. The more she thought about it, the more infuriated she became. Why would Leslie run around on such a great guy? Why chance losing him? Why rip out his heart? Her mind was reeling. Better to wait and see what super sleuth, Shannon Williams, uncovers. Gemma headed for her manuscript and immersed herself in work.

Hvitserk had everything ready for his luncheon date with Leslie. He had thrown a few oversize pillows on the thick blanket spread out on the livingroom floor, and the wicker basket beside it held covered dishes of baked chicken and his speciality, Caesar salad. Warm, crusty rolls nestled in a red checkered napkin beside a plate of assorted cheeses. He still felt guilty about his escapade last night with Gemma and preparing this lunch for Leslie, would in his own way, make up for his crazy behaviour, and lessen at least part of his nagging guilt. As he went to the kitchen to grab a couple of wine glasses and the bottle of chilled white wine, a small smile played across his lips, as he thought how guilt can twist one’s mind – like last night when he called Leslie and she didn’t answer. He had tossed and turned all night, and only relaxed after speaking with her early this morning. He shook his head, remembering all the crazy things he had thought.

She had apologized and said that she hadn’t answered the phone because she was still angry with him about the scene at the restaurant. He accepted the excuse. She was thrilled when Hvitserk asked her to come over for a special lunch to try to put their fight and hurtful words behind them. He had planned this picnic in memory of the lunches they had enjoyed together on the beach when they first began dating. Placing the glasses and wine beside the basket, he returned to the kitchen to clean up a bit before Leslie arrived.  
He really enjoyed cooking, but he had to admit he created chaos in the process. For a fleeting moment, Gemma found her way back into his thoughts. He closed his eyes and asked for strength as the memory of Gemma drifted through his mind; the feel of her warm naked flesh, the taste of her breasts. He groaned and hit his fist against the counter. “That woman is screwing with my head!” he muttered to himself, scrubbing the countertop a little harder than necessary. “It’s not going to happen again. I’m not going to think about her anymore!” Just as the words came out, the doorbell rang. He pushed Gemma from his thoughts and went to answer the door, smiling broadly as Leslie stepped into the foyer and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hi handsome,” she spouted, in an overly cheerful voice. Hvitserk looked at her as she moved away.

“I’m glad you’re in a better mood than you were last night. What happened, did you win a lottery?” he joked.

“No, I’m just happy to see you.” Glancing over at the blanket spread out on the floor she laughed with delight. “Oh, Hvitserk! This is beautiful!” she gushed, walking to the blanket and sitting down, patting the spot next to her, inviting Hvitserk to join her, seductively brushing her fingers through her soft blonde hair.

Gemma had forgotten the time and was absorbed in her manuscript when she glanced at the clock and realized she was late for lunch with Shannon. Quickly, she pulled on her coat and dashed from the house. Tugging open the restaurant door she spotted Shannon waving to her from a corner table. Gemma hastily grabbed a food tray and selected her lunch from the deli bar and rushed to sit down beside Shannon who was already munching on a salad.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I’m mesmerized by this latest writer and I totally lost track of the time.” Shannon swallowed a mouthful of food.

“That’s okay, I’ve only been here for a few minutes,” she said as she popped another forkful of salad into her mouth. They ate their meals in relative silence, neither one wanting to be the first to bring up the subject of Leslie. After finishing their lunch, they ordered cappuccinos and waited for them at the counter.

“Well, Sherlock, have you uncovered anything yet?” Gemma asked, curious to know more about the Mystery Man.

“Not yet, but I’m working on it. I thought I might follow Leslie one of these evenings and see what that turns up.” Gemma laughed.

“Would you listen to us! We sound like a couple of bored teenagers!”

“But it’s going to be fun,” Shannon said giggling. “Poor Hvitserk. He’s so trusting and such a nice guy. What do you think he’ll do when he finds out?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t plan on being around when it happens. I knew something wasn’t right the other night when they were together at the restaurant. They just didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves,” Gemma said, as she gently stirred her cappuccino before taking a sip. Shannon lifted an eyebrow in response and smirked. “I know what you’re thinking – I mean before I danced with Hvitserk,” Gemma said with a grin of her own.

“Come on Gemma. You still like Hvitserk and it irritates you that he’s dating Leslie,” Shannon said honestly. Gemma sputtered as she spoke.

“That’s not true. I don’t like him – well yes, I like him as a friend but that’s all. I don’t like him the way you think.” Shannon grinned, all the while watching Gemma dig herself deeper and deeper as she continued to deny her feelings, which were now becoming obvious to Shannon.

“Okay, I believe you,” she said slyly. “If you say you don’t like him romantically then I believe you – kind of.” Before Gemma had a chance to respond to the knowing remark, Shannon, who had been gazing out the window, turned to Gemma. Her eyes were wide and her mouth gaping.

“Shannon, what’s the matter?”

“He’s here! The Mystery Man is here!” She pointed to a car parked by the window. “See that guy in the black car? That’s him! That’s the car!” They both craned their necks and peered out the window just in time to see Leslie pull up beside the Mystery Man, smiling broadly. They watched in astonishment as the man quickly jumped into the passenger seat of her car and greeted her with a long, ardent kiss. Then Leslie put her car in gear and tore away from the deli. Gemma and Shannon stared after them in disbelief, finally turning in unison to face each other, still in too much shock to say a word. Gemma broke the silence.

“Just what do you think she’s doing? Now she’s meeting this guy in broad daylight? She’s not even trying to sneak around!” Shannon lowered her voice and leaned toward Gemma.  
“Well, the gossip in my office is that Leslie is hot to get married. That’s all she’s ever wanted which is why she never aspired to anything more than a sales clerk working in a fancy dress shop. She absolutely hates working, hates her boss and hates the job – typical Leslie. Hvitserk is really resisting a commitment and my guess is…” Shannon rested her chin in her hand and raised her eyebrows, savoring her thought.

“What, Shannon?” Gemma leaned toward her friend, waiting for her to finish.

“I think she’s playing one against the other and is trying to make Hvitserk jealous. She wants him to find out. But she doesn’t know Hvitserk as well as we do, Gemma, and I hope I’m not wrong about that.” Gemma noticed that Shannon was frowning and her lips were tight with anger as they gathered their coats and scarves and headed out the door to their cars.  
As Gemma climbed into her car, Shannon walked over and put her hand on the door.

“I’m so mad I could spit! Poor Hvitserk is being played for such a sucker. I wasn’t going to mention this, but that Leslie is one busy lady. Hvitserk must have invited her to lunch today at his house. On my way over here I saw her car in his driveway.” Suddenly Gemma felt that her lunch wasn’t sitting very well.


	6. Chapter 6

It was late Sunday night. Gemma sat in her bedroom with a cup of tea nestled between her hands and Roxy curled up beside her, fast asleep. Gemma sipped her tea, letting her mind wander. Had Hvitserk found out about Leslie and her Mystery Man? How much longer would it take? What will he do when he finds out? She felt as a friend she should run right over and let him in on the nasty stuff that was going on behind his back, but it just wasn’t her place to do this. Startled by the ringing of the telephone, she spilled a splash of hot tea on her nightgown. Quickly, she pulled the garment away from her skin and gently set her cup down on the bedside table. 

“Hello?” she said anxiously, thinking it was Shannon calling. 

“Hi,” Hvitserk said, in his usual sexy tone. Gemma paused for a moment, uncertain what to say. Don’t act like anything’s wrong, she told herself sternly. Then with false bravado she spoke,  

“Well, hello Cuddles, how are you?” Hvitserk sighed, loud enough for Gemma to hear. 

“I’m going to ask you nicely, one more time, stop calling me that or…” She cut him off before he could finish his threat. 

“Or what?” she laughed, trying to sound cheerful, like her old self. 

“Or I’ll come over there and toilet paper your house!” He could hear her giggle, and he felt relieved that what had happened two nights ago hadn’t altered their friendship. Then the tone in his voice changed as he continued with the conversation. 

“I called to ask you about something that’s extremely important to me.” Hvitserk sounded very serious and Gemma caught her breath. He must know about Leslie. Over the last few days, Gemma had tried to think of a way to let Hvitserk know what they had discovered without telling him directly. Unfortunately, no great inspiration had come to mind and now she was sure Hvitserk was calling to ask it she’d heard any rumours. “Gemma, are you there?” Hvitserk asked, shaking her from her nightmare. Don’t panic, whatever you do, don’t panic, she told herself firmly. 

“Oh, sorry,” she said nervously. “What did you want to know?” she asked, as she fell back against the headboard and waited for the bomb to drop. 

“Come on, Gemma, don’t play dumb. I think you know what I’m talking about, or has your mind suddenly gone blank about the whole thing?” Gemma moved her mouth but nothing came out. 

“No,” she said, very quietly, almost in a whisper. Here it comes, she thought. 

“Someone has a birthday tomorrow,” he said, launching into an off key rendition of Happy Birthday. 

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” she said laughing. 

“Did I miss something?” he asked. 

“Oh, no,” she said, regaining her normal voice. “I don’t know how it happened but I totally forgot about my birthday.” Gemma always preferred to try and let her birthday slide by unnoticed each year. Unfortunately, Hvitserk never seemed to forget the occasion – in fact, he revelled in the opportunity to poke fun and provide payback for her many pranks. 

“Sure you did Gemma. We go through this every year. So tomorrow, Shannon and I are taking you to dinner.” It was a statement not a question. 

“What about Leslie?” she asked. 

“Leslie’s out of town attending a conference and won’t be back until the day after tomorrow, so don’t worry, you won’t have to pretend to smile and act agreeable around her. Now you have no reason to back out,” he said, making his point with a little laugh. Gemma sighed. 

“Just once, I would really enjoy staying home for my birthday. But I know you won’t let me so tell me the time and place and I’ll be ready. But, please, don’t make a fuss.” 

“Fine by me,” Hvitserk said, “Shannon and I need to talk and we’ll let you know the details tomorrow. Don’t worry, you’ll have fun. Rest up and I’ll talk to you later.” Gemma let the phone drop into its cradle and breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped he would find out about Leslie soon before her nerves gave out. She had no sooner put the phone down when it rang again. This time is was Shannon. 

“Shannon! I haven’t talked to you since we had lunch at the deli and I ended up with an upset stomach!” 

“Sorry, friend, I’ve been busy. I just called to make sure you’re free for tomorrow night.” 

“Hvitserk just called to let me know that we’re going out tomorrow to celebrate my birthday.” Gemma said, with a deep sigh. 

“I don’t know what the big deal is about birthdays with you. I think it’s sweet how he remembers your birthday every year. Half the time I can’t remember my own, never mind someone else’s.” 

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, it’s just when he called I almost had a heart attack. I thought that for sure he was calling because he found out about Leslie. And by the way, Leslie is out of town at a conference for the next couple of days and won’t be joining us tomorrow.” 

“I wonder if it’s business or monkey business? Well, it’s a good thing she’ll be away because she sure wouldn’t be welcome at our party. It’s terrible what she’s doing and I’m going to keep following up and somehow we’ll make sure Hvitserk finds out.” 

“Shannon, I think you should stop before you get in too deep.” Shannon laughed. 

“I can’t! It’s driving me crazy, but if it helps, I won’t tell you what I find out. That way you won’t have to worry, okay?” 

“Yeah right, as if you could keep it to yourself for more than five seconds. Anyway, you give it your best shot Colombo.” They ended their conversation with a laugh and then said good night. With Roxy snuggled beside her, Gemma turned the bedside light off and curled up under the warm covers. As soon as she closed her eyes, an image appeared of Hvitserk fondling her in the snow. She was unable to ignore the seductive picture and gave in to the emotion that the scene aroused, embraced it, surrendered to it, and took it with her into a sweet and deep slumber, dreaming, dreaming… 

The next morning Gemma opened her eyes and stretched before crawling from her cozy, warm bed. She squirmed from under the soft duvet and pulled herself upright, swinging her legs over the side of the mattress. Another week had begun and Gemma wondered what surprises the next few days would bring. She padded, barefoot, from the bed to the dresser and closet gathering her clothing for the day. After a quick shower, she pulled on a pair of black spandex tights and a grey sweatshirt. She grabbed her brush and ran it through her mop of hair, then tidied up the bathroom and went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Within minutes, she had a warm mug of coffee in her hands, the rich aroma stirring her senses. After a couple of sips she felt the caffeine kick. 

“Mmm!” she moaned, closing her eyes. “Coffee makes the world go around,” she said to herself and Roxy. Roxy sat by the food dish, waiting for Gemma to notice the dish was empty. The dog made its usual demanding noises, finally catching her attention. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I ignoring you this morning?” she said, as she stood up and pulled the dog food from the cupboard and began filling her pet’s empty dish. Roxy eagerly rubbed up against Gemma as she finished filling the bowl. Slowly she bent over and ever so gently began stroking the soft fur behind her dog’s ears. A few quiet moments with her friend Roxy and a great cup of coffee… what a perfect way to start her birthday. 

Drawn back to reality, Gemma returned to the table and began itemizing the work she had to complete during the upcoming week so that she could book some well-deserved holidays. With scheduling finished, she retrieved her briefcase and walked down the narrow staircase to her basement office. She flipped on the light switch and looked around the room. The most predominant piece of furniture was the green chesterfield nicknamed the Green Dragon after the first storybook her father had read to her many years ago. The Green Dragon sat against the far wall and was the principle reading lounge for the editing of manuscripts good enough to make it to the final stage. The couch was a relic dating back to when her parents first married and their initial attempts at furnishing a home. What the couch lacked in style, it more than made up for in comfort. When she had curled up on its well-worn pillows to study for high school exams, her mother had called her the ‘Dragon Lady’. Now as an editor, she thought, smiling to herself, the name truly fit. 

Initially, some of her writers were not happy with the changes she made in their work, but in the end they grew to appreciate her wonderful eye for the written word. Gemma set her briefcase on the desk and turned on the computer and checked her electronic mail for important messages. As usual, lots of Email but nothing urgent. Logging off her computer, she returned to her briefcase and removed the manuscript she’d been reviewing for days; the initial work of a promising young writer. Armed with her trusty red pencil, Gemma took the manuscript to the couch and dove into what she hoped would be the final edit. She flopped down and put her feet up, turned on the lamp beside her, and set upon her task; the Dragon Lady began to slash and burn, flushing out the debris and honing the manuscript into shape. 

Hours later, she practically crawled off the couch, her neck and back stiff and sore. She stood up and dropped the manuscript and pencil on the desk and reached her hands high above her head to stretch out the knots and kinks that had silently penetrated her body. She powered up her computer, checked her Email again and fired off a status report to her commander-in-chief, pausing for the message verification before turning off her computer for an afternoon break. As she climbed the stairs returning to the kitchen, her thoughts drifted to Hvitserk. 

She needed to confirm the details for tonight. She picked up the phone and dialed his number, hanging up after the fourth ring without leaving a message on his machine. She couldn’t help but think about Leslie and the Mystery Man as she put the phone down in the receiver. Gemma leaned against the counter and looked out the kitchen window at the wintry scene. A fresh, new blanket of pure white snow covered the ground. She watched helplessly as a snowplow drove by, pushing a heaping mound of snow into her driveway. “Damn,” she said, talking to herself, something that was becoming a habit lately. Sliding into her jacket and boots, she walked out of the house into the bright afternoon sunshine, pausing at the doorway to inhale the crisp clean air as she pulled on her hat and mitts. She’d been at it for twenty minutes, but had only made a small dent in the thick, heavy snow piled at the end of her driveway. Her mouth was dry and her cheeks had taken on a rosy glow. The pushing, piling and throwing of the mixture of snow, salt and sand made her arms and shoulders ache. Behind her, she could hear a car approaching as she triumphantly tossed another shovelful of snow. Surprisingly, it was Hvitserk, who must be taking the day off work. As he neared, he acknowledged Gemma with a broad grin and pulled up alongside the place where the curb used to be. Climbing from his car, he approached her. 

“Hell of a way to spend your birthday!” Gemma slowly straightened up to take in his muscular frame as he waded through the snow towards her. She saw that he was wearing jeans and a bomber jacket, but she hardly had time to appreciate how great he looked as spasms of pain shot through her back.

“How come you’re not at work? Take the day off to celebrate my birthday?” Hvitserk ignored the question for the moment, noticing his favorite neighbor grimace as she attempted to stretch her back. 

“Are you okay?” 

“My body’s not used to all this activity,” she said smiling. “The pain is just a reminder that I have a desk job.” 

“Give me the shovel and pull up a snowbank and sit down,” he said, as he took the shovel from Gemma and surveyed the driveway. “You need to be pampered on your birthday.” 

“Don’t remind me. And don’t ask if I feel any older, because right now I do,” she said dryly, perching gingerly on a hard lump of snow as Hvitserk began to thrust the shovel into the   
craggy pile. Gemma quite enjoyed the view from her vantage-point. Hvitserk had his back to her and she watched as his jeans tightened and stretched with his every movement. It should be illegal to have a butt that tight, she thought. Her mind wandered to the heated encounter the other night and the indentation their bodies had left in the snow. The silent, telltale signs she was sure were now covered by the recent snowfall. The memories, however, were fresh again, as she silently admired his muscular body. Hvitserk suddenly swung around, catching her off guard, a knowing smile on his face. He must have eyes in the back of his head, she thought. Gemma stammered, wondering if somehow he had read her mind, “Oh, uh, do you have the day off?” Hvitserk took another shovelful of snow and heaved it aside. 

“To be honest, I took the day off so I could prepare for your birthday bash tonight,” he chuckled, as he flashed a grin at Gemma and heaved the last shovelful of snow from the driveway. He walked over to her, paused and leaned the shovel up against the snowbank. “Stand up and put your arms out,” he ordered. Gemma slowly got up from her perch, still feeling the effects of her brief encounter with the snow shovel. Obediently, she thrust her arms out at her sides. Hvitserk moved close to her until they were toe to toe. Placing his arms under hers, he lifted her up in the air and held her there as he counted, “One, two, three!” Then he gently put her down. “That ought to help your back”, he said. Gemma bent from side to side and broke into a broad grin. 

“It’s fixed! You’re a genius!” 

“That’s your birthday present,” he laughed, moving back a step or two. She grabbed the shovel and turned toward Hvitserk, staring into those luscious, green eyes. “I really do appreciate your help and the back adjustment. Do you have time to come in for a coffee?” 

“No, but I wish I could. I need to get back home and prepare for a conference call later this afternoon. But thanks,” he said, as he turned to walk toward his car. 

Gemma couldn’t resist, “So Hvitserk, what’s the plan for tonight?” 

“Never mind, you’ll find out later. Shannon will give you a call this afternoon with the details,” he said, as he continued to stroll to his car. Gemma watched as he got into his car and pulled from the curb with a parting nod, smugly continuing the suspense over the plans for the evening’s birthday activities. A gust of wind snapped her back to reality as she turned up her collar and made for the side of the house with the shovel. 

When Gemma opened the door and walked into her home, Roxy came skidding around the corner from the front room, tumbling into her legs. “Well, howdy partner,” she said in her best cowboy impression, as she hung up her coat. “What’s a nice dog like you doing in a joint like this?” she laughed, as she patted the soft fur and motioned for Roxy to follow her. Gemma returned to her office to complete a few more hours of work. Sitting on the Green Dragon, she could feel her attention span narrowing, her mind wandering, thinking of Hvitserk and his closeness when he lifted her off the ground. Oh, quit it, she scolded herself. Get over it! Gemma decided to pack it in for the day and indulge herself in a much needed soak in the bathtub. After all, it was her birthday. 

She quickly turned off her computer and headed up the stairs for the bathroom, where she poured peach-scented bubble bath in the steaming water flowing from the taps. She watched the mounds of bubbles climb the sides of the tub as she stepped out of her clothes and crawled into the foam. With a sigh of relief, she lay back against the tub, inhaling the sweet smell that filled the room, secretly pleased that she would be with Hvitserk and Shannon, her two best friends, on her birthday.


	7. Chapter 7

Gemma sat on the livingroom couch, dressed casually in a pair of cords and a neatly pressed denim shirt. Her hair had been freshly washed and glistened with highlights. Shannon had called over an hour ago to say she was on her way, so Gemma had rushed to get ready. In an effort to keep busy, Gemma poured herself a coffee and began reviewing the work she’d done on her manuscript earlier in the day. Just as she was about to turn to the next chapter, she heard a knock at the front door. Laying the book aside and what was left of her drink, she walked to the door and opened it. “Well, it’s about time!” she said, as Shannon grinned, not taking any offence at her tone. 

“Sorry I’m late, but something came up unexpectedly,” she said, not bothering to explain. “You look like you’re raring to go this evening,” she said, standing in the front foyer as Gemma went to retrieve her coat. 

“I’m ready all right,” she said dryly, as she selected a brown suede jacket from the hall closet and pulled it on. “But I’m telling you, Hvitserk better not do anything silly or outrageous tonight!” she said, closing the door as they left the house.   
Shannon laughed. “You know Hvitserk,” was all she said, as they walked together toward her car. 

“What does he have planned, Shannon?” she asked as she got in the car. “And don’t tell me you don’t know, because I can see it in your eyes.” 

“I was sworn to secrecy,” Shannon said, as she started the car. Gemma sat back in the seat, realizing she had no hope of getting the scoop from her friend Shannon who at the moment was displaying a cute and smug smile. 

Great, Hvitserk thought as he pulled into the driveway – Gemma’s gone. He opened the back door of his car and removed two boxes, which he lugged up the front steps and set on the top stair. He turned and ran back to his car and removed the remaining two boxes from the trunk. He had everything he needed and all that was left to do was a little assembly and set up. He laughed as he opened the first of the boxes – tacky, tacky and tacky. It had taken a surprising amount of searching at various stores and rental outlets to find what he was looking for. Hvitserk knew Gemma hated tackiness and he had often joked about building an addition onto his house to hold his collection of artifacts, as he called them. The Room of Tackiness would exhibit his many semi-historic objects, including his infamous armadillo guitar case, a life-size Elvis mannequin, a sprinkler head fashioned in the form of the leading lady from the Exorcist, an original Tammy Faye Baker wind-up doll complete with tear drops and smudged mascara and his pride and joy - his PEZ collection. At last count, the collection numbered over sixty-five dispensers. Gemma was aware of his preoccupation with memorabilia and continually poked fun at his wacky collection of nostalgia. Last year she threatened to inform several of his co-workers about his fetish for tacky junk, but Hvitserk quickly headed her off at the pass by threatening to kidnap her dog and give good old Roxy a perm and a dye job. 

Hvitserk sighed as he looked down at all the parts and pieces now covering her front steps. He had to hurry and get to Dugger’s to meet Gemma and Shannon but he knew the ornaments being pink and plastic, would make Gemma shudder. 

“Shannon, do you finally have everything you need?” Gemma patiently waited for her friend to get back in the car again. They had stopped at the drug store, the dry cleaners and Shannon even took a detour to her office. 

“Not quite, now I have to go back home. I just remembered I left your gift on the kitchen table. Sorry Gemma!” Shannon laughed as she made a U-turn and headed home. Hopefully Hvitserk had had enough time to finish his shenanigans before meeting them for dinner. It was becoming obvious to Gemma that she was stalling. After retrieving the gift, Shannon returned to the car where Gemma sat with the heater blowing full blast, listening to her favorite radio station. 

“Where are we off to now?” Gemma asked, watching the local cityscape drift by as Shannon once again headed the car for town. 

“We’re going to meet Hvitserk at Dugger’s,” she said as she maneuvered the vehicle through the quiet streets that led to the pub’s back entrance. Dugger’s is a place to relax and unwind. The place is popular because casual attire is the order of the day and best of all, the food is outstanding. 

“I’m starving,” Gemma announced, and as if on cue her stomach growled. 

“So I hear.” Their laughter filled the car as they approached the pub. Shannon pulled the car into the parking lot beside a big flashing neon sign by the back door of Dugger’s. The two women walked side by side, quietly giggling as they hurried around to the front of the building. They stood in the entrance, letting their eyes adjust to the subdued lighting. The tantalizing smell of home cooked food lingered in the air, and Gemma felt her stomach turn somersaults once again. 

“Come on, let’s sit down,” Shannon said, as she led Gemma to a booth at the back of the restaurant. Gemma slid onto the bench opposite Shannon and picked up the laminated menu propped behind the serviette dispenser. 

“So, where’s the ever elusive Mr. Hvitserk Lothbrok?” she asked, as she scanned the drink list on the menu. 

“He’ll be here, don’t you worry about that,” Shannon said, smiling. A waiter approached the table and placed a drink in front of each of them. 

“What’s this?” Gemma asked. “We haven’t ordered anything yet.” The young man didn’t say a word as he laid a note on the table in front of Gemma. She picked it up and read it aloud to Shannon.

I’ll be there soon – Birthday Girl! Hvitserk

“Thank you,” Shannon said, saluting the young waiter with her beverage. “Drink up Gemma – to your very Happy Birthday,” Shannon said, raising her glass in a toast. Gemma picked up her white russian, clinked glasses with her friend and took a long swallow. When Hvitserk walked in he immediately spotted the two women at the back of the restaurant, laughing and enjoying themselves. He strode to the table, carrying two brightly wrapped packages, one under each arm and a large glossy gift bag. 

“Well, if it isn’t the Birthday Girl,” he said, leaning over and giving Gemma a warm delicate kiss on her cheek. He greeted Shannon and placed the gifts on the table with mock carefulness and a broad grin. Shannon slid over to make room for Hvitserk on her side of the bench. 

“And where have you been, or should I ask?” Gemma said. “You invite me out and then arrive late, not very sporting of you, Hvitserk,” she said as she noticed a knowing look pass between Shannon and Hvitserk. 

She looked at Shannon first, “Okay, you two, what have you done?” 

“Nothing,” Shannon answered quickly, as Gemma pierced her with her eyes. “Hvitserk?” He laughed at the look in her eyes. 

“You’ll find out later, now let’s get some food on this table and let the festivities begin,” he said, slapping his hand down on the hardwood table. “So Gemma, tell me, how does it feel to be another year older?” he teased, waving the waiter over to their table. Gemma stuck her tongue out at Hvitserk at the same time the waiter arrived displaying a big grin. 

“So ladies, what would you like to have tonight? The Birthday Girl orders first.” Gemma looked at the waiter, realizing he was in on the birthday caper. After placing their orders, Hvitserk stood up. 

“Okay, Gemma, close your eyes,” he said. 

“And if I don’t?” she asked, her eyes beaming. 

“Just do it – pretty please?” Both he and Shannon smiled as they waited for her to comply knowing she had little choice. 

“This had better be good,” she said, then she closed her eyes tightly. She felt Hvitserk slip something around her neck – the brush of his warm fingers against her skin made her tingle. She fought the urge to lean into his hands. Next, she felt him place something on top of her head. Hvitserk bent over and softly whispered Happy Birthday into her ear. Then he turned. 

“Are you ready Shannon?” Gemma jumped slightly when she heard the click of the camera. “Okay Gemma, open your eyes!” Gemma slowly opened her eyes. Both Hvitserk and Shannon were laughing. She glanced down at what Hvitserk had put around her neck and joined in the laugher. It was a necklace of cards - jokers, actually. “What’s this for?” she asked between giggles. 

“That, my friend, is for every trick you’ve played on me, give or take a few hundred.” She reached up and lifted something from her head. It was a crown, made of foil, with letters of the alphabet stuck to it. 

“And this?” she inquired, laughing. 

“With this I dub thee the Queen of Syntax.” Then both Shannon and Hvitserk stood up and bowed before her. “To the fabulous editor, the Queen of Syntax.” 

“Very funny guys,” she said, placing the crown back on her head. “I could get used to this Queen thing! And will you do my bidding, peasants?” Both Hvitserk and Shannon spoke at the same time. 

“Yes, your Majesty but we’re not worthy.” They broke out laughing once again. Their waiter returned with another round of drinks and an assortment of finger foods; chicken wings, pepperoni nachos and potato skins. The trio joked and poked fun at each other as they enjoyed their meal. It was like old times in high school when they met after class to have colas and fries. When they finished, the waiter returned and removed their plates. Hvitserk leaned over and whispered something in the waiter’s ear as he was heading back to the kitchen. 

“How about opening your presents now,” he said, looking over at Shannon for her approval. She nodded and passed her gift across the table to Gemma. 

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the gift. The package had been elegantly packaged with patterned tissue paper and Gemma began to carefully, unwrap the gift. A small white box was exposed as she pulled away the last section of the tissue paper. She raised the lid and cautiously lifted out an exquisite snow globe presenting a wintry outdoor scene with a man and woman skating, hand in hand. “It’s beautiful Shannon,” she said, trying hard not to cry, all the while feeling her eyes beginning to tear. Gemma had admired the snow globe in a store window while on a shopping spree several months ago when Shannon had come to the city to visit. At the time, Gemma was feeling homesick and the picturesque, snowy setting had reminded her of Winter Falls and watching her mother and father skating together on the frozen lake. 

Shannon reached across the table and gently took the globe in her hands. “It plays music,” she said, as she turned it over and wound the music box. The classic Beatles tune, Yesterday, tinkled magically. Shannon placed the globe on the table and Gemma watched as the figurines appeared to float across the ice platform. The melody took her back in time… 

“Thank you, Shannon, I love it,” Gemma said, her eyes still glossy with emotion. 

“Okay, enough of that,” Hvitserk said, nudging Gemma with his arm. “Open this one first,” he said, placing a long gift-wrapped box in front of her. Gemma tore the wrapping from the gift and lifted the top off the box. 

“You blockhead!” She giggled as she lifted out a pair of glasses. She put them on and turned towards Hvitserk. “What do you think?” she asked, as the large floppy googly eyeballs, suspended from the glasses, swayed from side to side. Shannon lifted her camera and snapped another picture. 

“I think they suit you,” she said, her face contorting with laughter. “Too many hours in a book and that’s what you’re going to look like.” 

“Okay, one more,” Hvitserk said, pushing another package across the table toward Gemma. “This one is a wee bit more serious,” he said. 

“Sure it is,” Gemma said, slowly picking up the package and holding it to her ear. 

“What are you doing?” Shannon asked. 

“I’m just making sure it’s not ticking,” she said, as she tossed a grin at Hvitserk. She tore the paper off the box and removed the lid. Nestled within the light blue tissue paper was a hand carved, wooden, carousel horse. It had been hand painted in soft colors of blue, pink and yellow. Gemma threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly, kissing him on each cheek. “I love it!” she said, picking up the intricate and elegant woodcarving. “Look, Shannon! Isn’t it exquisite?” she said, once again brushing tears from her face. 

“Yes, it is,” Shannon answered, handing Gemma a tissue. Hvitserk was elated to see that Gemma was genuinely pleased. He had hoped the carousel horse would be a welcome addition to her collection of handcrafted figurines.

Hvitserk picked up the wooden horse and joked, “Somehow I figured it just wouldn’t fit with my collection of rubber pizza slices and monogrammed polyester leisure suits.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw the waiter waving. “Oh, excuse me for a moment,” he said, as he rose from the table. Gemma couldn’t help but follow his body with her eyes as he moved from the table, noting the way his T-shirt moulded to the indentation along his ribs and clung to his muscular chest. Shaking these thoughts from her mind, Gemma continued in the festive spirit and put her new glasses back on. 

“Well kiddo, are you having a good time?” Shannon asked, as she admired the presents. 

“Yes,” she said, moving her head from side to side, making the dangling eyeballs swing back and forth. Gemma removed the glasses from her face and shoved them onto her friend’s nose, both women laughing at the spectacle they were making of themselves. Hvitserk began walking towards Gemma, carrying a cake with what looked to be a hundred flaming candles. Gemma spotted his advance and covered her head with her hands pretending to hide. This was what Gemma hated most of all about her birthday – being made a public spectacle. Hvitserk started singing Happy Birthday and was joined by the restaurant staff and other patrons. She looked at Shannon who was now singing and laughing with the rest of the crew. At the end of the song, Hvitserk presented the cake to Gemma in ceremonial style and then placed it on the table directly in front of her. Hovering over her with a smile that was as bright as the cake itself, Hvitserk said enthusiastically, “Make a wish Gemma!” 

Gemma closed her eyes and wished – a private wish that had something to do with the song Yesterday. She took a long breath and blew at the candles for all she was worth. The flames swayed but not one candle went out. She blew again and again. It took five tries before the last trick candle was finally extinguished. “Very funny, you two,” she said, looking at her dinner companions who were grinning from ear to ear, obviously altogether proud of themselves for having successfully embarrassed their friend. Gemma laughed as she watched Hvitserk remove the candles from the cake and cut it into portions, placing a large piece in front of her. They enjoyed their cake, laughing, reminiscing and lingering over cappuccinos. Shannon was the first to announce her departure. 

“Well, guys, it’s been fun, but it’s time for me to head home.” She really wanted to give Hvitserk and Gemma a chance to be alone. She leaned over the table and kissed Gemma on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” 

“Thanks again for the gift. I really love it.” 

“You’re very welcome, Hon,” she said, taking her coat from the hook by the booth. Hvitserk stood and helped Shannon into her coat. Shannon appreciated the gesture. 

“Thanks Hvitserk, and as always, it’s been great.” She gave both Hvitserk and Gemma a parting peck on the cheek and then she was gone, leaving them with an awkward silence. Hvitserk cleared his throat. Gemma shifted around on her seat and began toying with her gifts. 

“Well, I think maybe we should be going,” he said, sliding off the bench and standing up. 

“Good idea.” Gemma stood up and Hvitserk helped her with her coat. The fresh scent of her long hair enveloped Hvitserk, exciting his senses, sending a sudden thrill through his body. “I had a great time tonight,” she said, as they walked out the door to his car. 

“The night’s not over yet. I have one more surprise before you put those ageing old bones to bed.” Gemma wrinkled her nose at him. Laughing, he held the car door open for her. As they drove toward her house, Gemma fingered the gifts sitting in her lap. 

“I want to thank you for all you’ve done tonight,” she said. 

“You’re welcome,” he said, slightly distracted by what he thought he saw in the rear-view mirror. Slowing his car ever so slightly, Hvitserk checked his rear-view mirror again until he could see clearly into the car directly behind him. What he saw made his heart skip a beat; Leslie was in the front seat nuzzling up to the driver, a man Hvitserk had never seen before. It was obvious Leslie was preoccupied and was not aware she was being watched. Hvitserk could feel his face flush with anger as he watched Leslie lean over and kiss the driver just as they turned off onto the street that led to her house. Gemma noticed something was wrong when she looked over at Hvitserk. His hands on the steering wheel were tight, his knuckles had turned white, and his jaw muscles were flexed and tense. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he said forcing a smile. Hvitserk continued home and pulled into his driveway but Gemma sensed the shift in his mood. 

“Hvitserk, in case you’ve forgotten, I live on the next street,” she said, giving him a perplexed look as she pointed in the general direction of her house. 

“I know. Come on,” he said, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him. Gemma climbed out and followed him, not saying another word as they walked towards the side of the house through the trees. A sign on a huge pine tree stopped her in her tracks. The large words read, ‘Follow the yellow brick road’. She turned and looked back at Hvitserk who appeared to be lost in thought. 

“Hvitserk?” 

“Oh, sorry,” he said quickly. “I just remembered something and my mind’s wandering a bit.” 

“What’s the matter with you? “ she asked with concern. 

“I’m fine,” he said in a voice that was not very convincing. “Now, come on and do as the sign says.” He gently nudged her ahead and followed as she walked on the yellow confetti path that led from his property to her front yard. Gemma laughed as she followed the confetti trail that wound around and in and out between the trees. 

“This is absolutely enchanting! My very own yellow brick road!” When she rounded the corner to her house she broke into laughter – her yard was covered in pink plastic flamingos of all shapes and sizes, each holding a Happy Birthday sign in its beak. “Where in the world did you find these hideous things?” she said, between giggles. 

“They flew in from Florida,” he said, “and they have to stay where they are until all the neighbors have had a chance to admire your good taste – promise?” Gemma giggled at the sight of all the pink birds standing with one leg raised as if testing the snow but finding it too cold for their liking. 

“You goof! I promise – but at one minute after twelve noon tomorrow they are going to migrate to your garage!” 

“Well, I’ll be checking,” Hvitserk said. “Listen Gemma, I hate to leave at this touching moment but there’s something I have to do. Can I give you a call tomorrow? Will that be okay?” 

“Oh sure,” she said, hiding her feeling of disappointment. 

“Happy Birthday.” He leaned over and placed a brief kiss on her cheek. “I’ll call tomorrow,” he promised. Then with a wave, he headed back toward his home. 

“Thanks again!” she called after him. Then he was gone, leaving Gemma standing in her front yard with all her winged friends. She grinned at the sight. Something was wrong with Hvitserk. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was definitely wrong. She gazed over her front yard once more and chuckled as she walked up the steps and into her house. Gemma closed the door to the cold night air and removed her coat and boots, suddenly remembering she’d forgotten her gifts in the car. She went to the phone and called Hvitserk, hearing it ring several times before his answering machine picked up. The message she left ended with another gushing thank you for a terrific evening. Gemma got ready for bed and practically dove under the covers. Roxy, her bed warmer, sauntered into the room and jumped up to cuddle. Gemma drifted off to sleep in the warm glow of a wonderful evening. 

Gemma was troubled. It had been a week since her birthday party and she hadn’t heard from Hvitserk. This wasn’t like him, not returning her calls. Not like him at all. Shannon was coming for lunch. She placed the plate of sandwiches on the table and was rooting around in the fridge for pickles and olives when Shannon flew in the front door. 

“I’m here,” Shannon called from the foyer as she kicked off her boots. “Damn boots, damn snow, damn winter,” she complained as she walked to the kitchen, adjusting her pantyhose. She threw her coat on a chair and ran her hands through her wind tousled, straight, blonde hair. Gemma laughed as she placed a bowl of steaming soup in front of her friend. 

“This will warm you up.” Shannon inhaled the beefy aroma and looked at her friend. “This is home-made. You’re an angel!” She picked up her spoon and slurped her first taste. “Delicious,” she said. Gemma carried another bowl of soup to the table and sat down.

“It’s taken me awhile, but I finally got Mom’s recipe down pat.”

“Girl, do you know how lucky you are?” Shannon asked between spoonfuls. “You get to play Little Suzie Homemaker and you don’t have to get into a cold car in the morning, no pantyhose, no make-up. You’ve got it made!” Gemma smiled. 

“I know. I’m very lucky and believe it or not, I’m more productive working from home.” Shannon reached for a thick, egg salad sandwich and changed the subject abruptly. 

“Has Hvitserk reared his handsome head, yet?” 

“I haven’t heard a word from him and I must admit, I’ve walked past his house a couple of times. He just seems to be hiding. When I took those ghastly pink birds back to his garage, I thought maybe he’d at least come out and give me a couple of verbal jabs, but he didn’t. I tell you, Shannon, it was strange how his mood suddenly changed the night of my birthday party. He tried to cover something up, but he was very upset on the drive home.

“What do you think happened? We sure had a great time at the restaurant. Did you pounce on him after I left?” Shannon chuckled as she went to the soup pot for a second helping.   
“No, Smartie, I didn’t. At first I thought I had said something but we really talked very little on the way home that night.” Shannon dove into her soup and dabbed some beef broth off her chin. 

“Well, Super Sleuth has a tad of information for you. That’s one advantage of going to the office - you hear stuff. One of the girls in my office and her husband live across the street from Hvitserk, and they saw Leslie hammering on his door. They knew he was home, but get this – he didn’t answer.” Gemma put her sandwich down.   
“So it does have something to do with Leslie!” she said. 

“Yup. Looks like the romance is over. Something happened later the night of your birthday. Apparently, they had a huge fight.” Gemma was puzzled.   
“But how could they? Leslie was away at a conference.” Shannon shrugged her shoulders. 

“I dunno, but Hvitserk’s not talking and apparently Leslie is out and about on her own and she’s not talking either.” Gemma threw her arms around her friend. 

“Shannon, I’m so relieved to hear this! I honestly thought Hvitserk was angry at me for some reason.” 

“Well, I’m glad they’ve broken up. He’s far too nice a guy for her.” 

“Poor Hvitserk,” Gemma said, her voice full of sympathy. “Well, he’ll surface when he wants to and maybe then we’ll know what happened.” Secretly Gemma wished Hvitserk would come to her if he was in pain. They had always been there for each other in tough times. She wanted him to cry on her shoulder. Gemma sighed as she brought two mugs of coffee to the table. “He needs his own space so I’m not calling or going over to his place again until I hear from him. But we should think of something to shake him out of this hibernation, cheer him up. Besides, he still has my birthday presents,” she laughed. Shannon carried her dishes to the sink. 

“I know you’ll think of something,” she said, “and I know it won’t be something as simple as sending him a bouquet of balloons!” She pulled her coat tightly around her slim body as   
she headed for the front door. “Duty calls. Thanks a million for lunch, Gemma.”

Shannon walked to the front door and leaned against the wall as she pulled on her boots, cursing at them again. As she stood up to leave, Gemma handed her a container of soup. “I made a huge pot and if you don’t take this, I’ll be eating it for a week.” 

“Well, there you go! Take some over to Hvitserk. You know what they say – the way to a man’s heart….” 

“Goodbye, Goof!” Gemma laughed as Shannon hurried down the steps. Gemma cleared away the table, all the while thinking about Hvitserk. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I should take him some soup, she thought. No, darn it, he hasn’t answered my calls and he owes me an explanation. I want to do something dramatic, something that will really shake him up. She turned on the radio and suddenly a glimmer of an idea made her smile. She ran to the phone book, turned to the yellow pages and found the number she was looking for.


	8. Chapter 8

Hvitserk stepped into the sunshine on his way to see Gemma, carrying her bag of birthday gifts. It had been two weeks since he had last seen her, the night he and Shannon had taken her to dinner. That evening, which had begun with so much fun and silliness, had ended very differently. He let his mind wander to that fateful evening… Hvitserk waved good-bye to Gemma and quickly retraced his steps over the confetti path to the front of his property and jumped into his car. He navigated in and out of the deserted side streets, taking every possible shortcut. Maybe he was wrong, he thought, maybe he had seen someone who looked like Leslie, maybe he had imagined it – but he intended to find out for sure. His heart pounded in his chest as he pulled up along the curb – there was the car he’d seen earlier. He cut the engine and got out, closing the door softly and walked up the driveway. Approaching the door, he reached out and rang the doorbell, apprehension tingling down his spine. He turned his collar up against the cold as he waited at the door. He rang the doorbell again, this time leaning on it impatiently. Finally, the door opened, just a crack. 

He stood on the doorstep with his fists thrust into his pockets as Leslie peered through the crack in the partially open door. “Hvitserk!” Leslie said, obviously surprised to find him standing on her doorstep. “What are you doing here?” she asked through the opening in the doorway. 

“I might ask you the same thing. I thought you were away tonight,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. 

She stammered as she tried to speak. “Well, … “ He noticed that she was dressed in a bathrobe that had been hastily thrown over her frame. 

“Why aren’t you inviting me in?” he asked, his anger growing, because he knew by her startled expression and unwillingness to open the door that something was definitely wrong. 

“Well, it’s late, Hvitserk, and I’m just going to bed,” she said, trying to sound pleasant and casual. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” She started to close the door, but Hvitserk quickly pushed forward through the opening in the doorway and stepped into the foyer. 

“What’s going on Leslie? “ 

“Nothing, Hvitserk. What’s wrong with you tonight?” She was clearly upset by his entry and stood in front of him to prevent him going any further into her home. Absently, she ran her fingers through her tumbled hair, her breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. She glanced nervously toward the bedroom. Hvitserk quickly scanned the livingroom. Two glasses sat on the coffee table and a man’s shirt and tie were thrown over a chair beside the couch. His eyes turned stone cold. 

“Is this a private conference or can anybody join in?” he asked sarcastically. Leslie stood in her bathrobe with her arms crossed at her chest. 

“I can explain,” she said tensely, but was interrupted by a muffled cough coming from the bedroom. Hvitserk felt as if a knife had suddenly been thrust through his chest. 

“I’m sure you can, Leslie. I’ve found out how very good you are at lying – perhaps your friend in the bedroom can add to this conversation?” Oddly, Hvitserk let out a shrill laugh. His laughter sent chills down her spine. “Actually, I should thank you for making this so easy for me. We’re through, Leslie. It’s over.” He turned to open the door. 

“Let’s talk about your precious Gemma, who does no wrong in your eyes! How was your little birthday party for sweet, little Gemma?” Leslie was yelling at the top of her lungs, her face contorted with anger. “Ever since she came back to town, she’s all you’ve talked about! She’s ruining my life, that bitch!” Hvitserk opened the door. 

“Good luck, Leslie,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. “And good luck to that poor fool in your bedroom.” As he stepped through the doorway, Leslie tried to grab his arm, sobbing, 

“No, Hvitserk, I’m sorry! Please come back!” he shook her off and shut the door on the rest of her words. Hvitserk let the memory fade. He didn’t want to think about the last two weeks. After his confrontation with Leslie that night he had gone back to Dugger’s for a drink in an attempt to collect his thoughts. His pride was hurt and he sure didn’t like being lied to and played for a sucker. After his second drink, Hvitserk realized what was upsetting him most was not that he and Leslie were finished, but that his ego had been badly battered. When he finally got home, he crawled into bed and surprisingly, had no difficulty falling asleep. For the past two weeks he had ignored the phone calls and the door. Hell, he’d ignored everything. His call display warned him when Leslie was calling, which she did, over and over, crying, apologizing, wanting to see him. He refused to listen to her messages on his answering machine. 

Twice she had come to the house and hammered on his door. The second time he was ready for her. Opening the door a crack, and without saying a word, he handed her a large, green garbage bag containing the clothes and make-up that had cluttered his house for months. Her mouth fell open in surprise. She reached out and took the bag from his outstretched hand, while he closed the door, slowly and deliberately, as Leslie stood and stared in disbelief. Hvitserk wasn’t a vengeful man, but God, that felt good - damn good. He had peered through the curtains and watched her dragging the bag behind her in the snow, heading to her car. As she struggled to pick up the bag, the bottom gave way. The next thing he saw was Leslie scrambling around in the snow, picking up a hairbrush, a snow-filled red shoe, bottles of nail polish and tubes of lipstick, trying to stuff them into her pockets. Her hair, wet with snow, straggled over her face as she tried to keep her footing in her ridiculous, high-heeled boots. She blew the hair out of her face and threw sweaters and slacks into the back seat of her car along with the torn garbage bag. 

He had to cover his mouth with his hand to suppress a laugh, as she clutched at the car door, her feet sliding out from under her. She was fuming. Slamming the car door, she revved the engine and spun her tires on the ice in the driveway before backing onto the street, nearly colliding with a passing van. Then she was gone, her cashmere scarf, caught in the car door, trailing along in the dirty snow, like a flag of defeat. Over the last two weeks both Gemma and Shannon had called once or twice, and although he knew it was out of concern, he wasn’t ready to talk to either of them, mostly because he felt like a fool for getting mixed up with Leslie in the first place. After work he stayed pretty close to home. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened, he didn’t want anyone’s sympathy and he sure as hell didn’t want to be cornered by Leslie. He spent quite a few satisfying hours cataloguing his tacky memorabilia and searching for more zany items on the Internet. And then early one morning, he received a phone call…  At first he thought it was a joke, as the deep, carefully groomed voice at the other end asked for Hvitserk Lothbrok. The caller introduced himself but Hvitserk only caught the ‘morning man from the local radio station’. 

He remembered smiling and wondering which of his colleagues from the office was hamming it up but as a precaution he had rolled over in bed and flipped on the radio. Instantly, he had felt a lump grow in the back of his throat. He recognized his own groggy voice being broadcast over the airwaves. At the time, it seemed like a nightmare… 

“So Hvitserk, glad to hear you’re awake. Can you turn your radio down a notch or two – we’re getting feedback at our end.” Hvitserk fumbled for the volume control and turned his radio off, quickly trying to remember if he’d filled in any coupons or heard of a big contest the station was promoting. Maybe he’d won a trip, dinner… a car. Hell, he needed a coffee.  “Hey, alright, that’s better,” the voice said, “Now Hvitserk, as you might be aware, we’re running our charity auction next week…” Hvitserk couldn’t believe his luck. Word was obviously out that he was single and available and the station was calling to see if he would volunteer to be auctioned off in the local Celebrity Auction – single women bidding for single men – for charity, of course. Stay cool, he told himself. “ …and Hvitserk we’ve been made aware that you are a collector of fine and rare artifacts from around the world…” Great he thought, they are building him up, increasing his value for the auction. Yeeha! This is fun. “…and your collection includes such worldly items as an armadillo purse, fossilized camel droppings authenticated from sixteenth-century BC. We also know you have a miniaturized replica of a Ford Pinto that doubles as a cigarette lighter.” 

Hvitserk was at a loss for words. How did this radio person know so much about him? Hvitserk felt the lump return to his throat, “Ah, yes, among other things. I also have sixty-five PEZ dispensers …”  He realized he was sounding like a fool and decided to put a lid on it. 

“Well Hvitserk, we understand that you also have, as part of your priceless collection, direct from England, a pair of pantyhose worn and autographed by the BBC’s Dame Edna. We were wondering if you would donate these precious pantyhose for our auction next week.” It was then that it suddenly dawned on him who had organized the call, who was responsible for these embarrassing moments – damn her! He was still at a loss for words but managed to sputter,

“But I thought it was a Celebrity Auction…” The radio host continued, “Well Hvitserk it is, and as a warmup before we auction the celebrities we thought we’d start with some amusing and unusual items. But if you don’t want to part with your panty hose and help with the Boys and Girls Club…” 

His mind began racing, he was being branded a loser over the radio – first the panty hose now not helping with kids – LOSER. Hvitserk quickly interrupted, “Uh, of course I’ll donate my, uh, the panty hose and I would also like to donate something else that will hopefully help with your fund raising activities – a Princess Diana PEZ dispenser. There were only two thousand made and they have already become a collectors’ item.” The voice responded, 

“Hvitserk that’s more than generous and I’d like to thank you on behalf of the station and the Boys and Girls Club. If you’ll stay on the line I’ll have someone take your address and arrange to pick up your donation. And thanks again.” Then it was over, the most embarrassing moment of his life. Hvitserk chuckled to himself, remembering how he had rested his head on his hands still clutching the telephone receiver. He had sounded like a goof, like a…KNOB. He hadn’t heard that word in years but suddenly it seemed to perfectly describe how he had felt. And Gemma was responsible… After the call from the station, he had let go of the phone and rolled back onto the bed staring up at the ceiling but seeing nothing. What if someone from his office had heard? What about the guys from Dugger’s? What about his ball team? Suddenly he had started to laugh. It could have been worse; they could have found out about his authentic shrunken head from Africa. Try explaining that one over the radio. He had laughed all the way to the shower, ignoring the ringing of the telephone. He recalled that the phone had rung all day. It seemed everyone he’d ever known had heard his radio broadcast and several of his buddies had called wanting to see his secret collection, particularly the Ford Pinto lighter. He laughed again – yeah right, they wanted to see the Dame Edna panty hose. It was during one of these many telephone conversations that he heard the welcome news that Leslie had suddenly packed up and moved to the city. He recalled how he felt at the moment he heard the news; like a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he felt invigorated and free. Free of the burden of constantly trying to please and entertain Leslie; free from her far too numerous phone calls planning every second of his spare time, and free from her jealous tirades and accounting to her for every hour he was out of her sight. 

At first he had found her jealousy flattering, but later he had to admit that it was merely a control tactic. That night, Hvitserk had ventured into Dugger’s for a celebration drink where he table-hopped, talked to neighbors and old friends, people he hadn’t had time for in the last few months. Sure enough, most of them had either heard about Hvitserk being on the radio or been told about his famous panty hose and PEZ collection. The entire night had been filled with laughter and fun. Drinks were on the house as his friends revelled in his sudden notoriety. He hadn’t laughed so much in a long time. Driving home that night he had almost stopped by to see Gemma – it was so tempting. Her prank had come at exactly the right time and had helped catapult him out of the doldrums. All these years, he’d kept his collection a secret, being embarrassed about its content, only to discover that everyone was interested in his preoccupation. He smiled when he thought of his initial unease and how he had cursed Gemma. But in the end it was a blessing. Thanks to Gemma, from that day on, he had resumed his old life, a good life – life before Leslie. With a shake of his head, putting the past two crazy weeks behind him, he strode down the sidewalk to her front door. He hadn’t talked to Gemma since her birthday and felt quite guilty that he still had her gifts. Quietly he moved up the steps and rang the bell, then stood back and waited.


	9. Chapter 9

Gemma moved the dog off her lap and walked down the hall to answer the door. She had been slowly going out of her mind with worry. The whole town was now talking about how Hvitserk caught Leslie cheating and Gemma was concerned about how he was handling it. She hadn’t seen or heard from Hvitserk in two weeks. He wouldn’t answer her phone calls and Gemma had respected his need for privacy and left him alone. She hauled the door open and when she saw Hvitserk standing there with a rather sheepish grin on his face, she let out a screech. 

“Where have you been?” she yelled, as she jumped up and threw her arms around him, giving him a big bear hug. It felt so good to be held. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back. 

“Can we talk?” he asked, as Gemma moved out of his way to let him into the foyer. 

“Sure, come on in.” She waited until he passed over the threshold and closed the door behind them. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Hvitserk took his coat off and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair. 

“That sounds great,” he said as he sat down. “Oh, here,” he said, passing the bag to her that was still in his hands. “I’m sorry you’ve been without your gifts. I’ve been keeping to myself lately.” 

“So I’ve heard. I’m sorry, Hvitserk.” The concern in her voice was evident as she took the bag of gifts from Hvitserk and put it on the counter. “I wasn’t worried about my gifts, I was worried about you. Are you okay?” Gemma prepared their drinks, placed a cup in front of Hvitserk, sat down opposite him and began sipping her coffee. 

“I’m fine now,” he said, “but after I left you on the night of your birthday, it was a pretty bad scene.” She reached out and held his hands. Hvitserk took a deep breath and told her about seeing Leslie with someone else as he was driving Gemma home that night. He continued with a blow by blow description of how he had visited Leslie later that evening. She rubbed her thumb across his knuckles and spoke softly to him. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry.” And she meant it. She was sorry for the pain he had gone through, but a part of her was glad it was finally over. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said wearily as he turned her hands over and studied the fine lines on her palms. “Do you want to hear something funny?” he asked, as he released his grip. 

“What?” She picked up her cup and took a deep swallow. 

“It really doesn’t bother me that she’s gone. I mean, it bothered me that she was running around on me, but it doesn’t bother me that she’s gone. I wonder why?” 

“Perhaps you didn’t really love her,” she said, holding her breath. Hvitserk didn’t respond immediately. 

“Do you want to hear something even funnier?” he asked, his green eyes dancing with delight. Gemma smiled. It was so good to see him back to his old self again. 

“Tell me,” she said, her eyes radiantly smiling back at him. Hvitserk told her about greeting Leslie at the door with her many belongings stowed in a green garbage bag. “Well, I guess that served her right,” Gemma said, “and it’s a far cry from her Gucci luggage!” This comment caused them both to double over in laughter having to wipe away tears. Hvitserk suddenly leaned over and took her hands in his. 

“You were the only person I wanted to talk to about this and it feels so good to get it off my chest. Thanks Gemma.” He gave her a long, soft look and then abruptly stood up heading for the coffee machine. Gemma tried to act nonchalant, 

“Oh uh, Hvitserk, were you on the radio or something a couple of mornings ago?” Hvitserk had almost forgotten but immediately began to chuckle. They both knew who had instigated the interview with the radio station and he was still receiving calls from friends who had either heard or had talked to someone who had listened to the radio broadcast. The local newspaper had even called wanting to do a spread on his room of tackiness. 

“You won’t be laughing when my collection is featured on 60 Minutes,” he said, his green eyes beaming. 

“You mean Jerry Springer don’t you?” 

“We’ll talk about my television career later. This is the first day of my new life,” he announced, “leave your editing for now and come outside and play.” Hallelujah for holidays she thought, “Where would you like to go?” she asked, as she watched him take the cups to the sink and rinse them. 

“Grab your skates,” he said smiling, “let’s go skating on the lake just like old times.” 

“Great idea!” Gemma said enthusiastically, heading down the hallway in search of a warmer sweater. She quickly moved to the bathroom and ran a brush through her hair and finished with a dab of perfume behind each ear. “I’m ready,” she said, grabbing her jacket and skates from the closet. Hvitserk took the jacket from her hands and held it for her. He stood behind her as she slipped her arms into it. As he inhaled her intoxicating scent, an animal sound rose uncontrollably in his throat. 

“Are you okay?” Gemma asked as she turned around and pulled up the zipper on her jacket. Hvitserk coughed and turned to leave. 

“I’m fine, come on,” he said pulling her through the door into the brisk morning air. 

By the time Hvitserk pulled into the driveway, the sun was starting to set, turning the sky deep shades of gold and orange. He shut the engine off, got out  and walked around to help Gemma from the car. Walking toward her house, Gemma turned to Hvitserk who was standing by his car. 

“That was fun, Hvitserk. Would you like to come in for a bite to eat?” she asked, as she unlocked the door. Hvitserk stood watching as the fading sunlight caught the ends of her hair, turning them a lighter hue. The whole time they were together, the feelings that had been hidden for so long, suddenly, sprang back to life. Every turn of her head, the brush of her arm or even the sound of her laughter, made him want to hold her and smother her with kisses. “Hello, Hvitserk! Are you there?” His face suddenly flushed, making Gemma laugh. 

“Sure, I’d love to come in…I thought you’d never ask,” he said, smiling broadly, climbing the steps and entering into the foyer. Gemma took his coat and hung it up next to hers, following him into the kitchen.

“How about some soup and a sandwich?” she asked. 

“Sounds great. I’ll put the coffee on.” She turned the soup on low, then took the bread from the box on the counter as Hvitserk began collecting the meat and toppings from the refrigerator. Gemma flicked the radio on as they worked side by side. 

“I had a good time today,” she said smiling, as she passed him the bread. 

“So did I.” Hvitserk was thinking how much fun it was to do something spontaneous and how great it was that Gemma didn’t take an hour to get ready. They really were two of a kind. Gemma pulled a couple of plates from the cupboard just as Garth Brooks began singing The Dance. Gemma stopped and closed her eyes, softly humming the tune. Hvitserk watched her for a few moments, then held out his arms. 

“Would you like to dance, Ma'am?” he asked in an exaggerated southern drawl. She turned around and stepped into his warm embrace without hesitation. Her head came to rest against his chest and she closed her eyes as they began to move to the music. Hvitserk softly placed a kiss on her brow. Their bodies melted together as they slowly moved around the room. All too soon the song ended, but neither one moved apart. Gemma looked up and stared into the soft, green eyes that had captivated her days and nights for far too long. All thoughts of dinner disappeared as his head moved forward to kiss her. Mesmerized, she closed her eyes and gave herself fully to the kiss. It was better than she remembered, sweeter than honey, softer than silk. She moaned from deep within as he pushed through her petal soft lips with his tongue. Hvitserk moved her up against the counter and braced her there with his hips. The force of his arousal was straining between them demanding to be released. His body rejoiced in the feelings that were rushing through his veins like hot, molten lava. 

Gemma let him push her sweater and shirt above her breasts. A soft groan ripped through her body, the radiant heat of desire was burning her very soul. He moved her bra aside. She tastes so good, he thought as he continued to make love to her body with his mouth. It never felt this good with any other woman. With his eyes closed, he found her mouth and kissed her with all the passion he possessed. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body into his, as if making the two into one. She was hot, hotter than she ever thought possible. She watched his eyes flutter open, then he leaned his forehead against hers.

“Do you want me?” she asked timidly. Her body trembling with desire. Hvitserk took a deep breath. 

“You know I do. Gemma, I just don’t want you to think I’m doing this on the rebound, because that’s not the way it is.” 

“I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember,” she said honestly. Then she reached her hands up and ran them through his shoulder-length, soft hair. That’s all it took, that simple invitation. 

“I want you!” he growled as he sealed their lips in a fiery kiss. Suddenly, they were a mass of arms and eager fingers. Their lips met in a glowing embrace, tasting, nipping, and devouring. Gemma pulled her mouth from his and reached down, taking his hand and leading him to the beckoning bedroom. Embracing beside the bed, Hvitserk gently ran his fingers through her glistening hair. 

“I’ve looked forward to this for years!” he said, as he pulled her sweater over her head and arms revealing the fullness of her breasts. Gemma grabbed at the zipper on his sweater as Hvitserk pushed her jeans down past her hips. She tore his sweater over his shoulders then started on his T-shirt, ripping it from him and inhaling the fresh male scent that belonged only to him. Their clothes seemed to fly off their bodies, landing on the floor in a heap beside the bed. Gemma placed a heated kiss in the middle of his chest. There they lay in all their glory, stripped bare of all restrictions. They came together in a fierce passion, heat against heat, heart against heart. 

He moved over her and joined their two bodies. A shameless noise of passion escaped her throat. Gemma arched her back and wrapped her legs around him. They moved as one, soaring to heights they had never known before. Closer and closer they came, their breathing raging until they reached the heavens. “Hvitserk!” she screamed, loving the sound of his name as she exploded into a million shimmering pieces. Hvitserk followed, his body grew tense, and the vein in his neck pulsed with each beat of his heated desire. Waves of passion overcame him, the tension now released. He kissed her tenderly, rolling over and taking her with him. 

Gemma laid her head on his chest spreading gentle kisses lightly over his moist body, the effervescence of their lovemaking still upon them. They touched, caressed, relaxed and suddenly laughing, remembered the soup on the stove and realized they were both famished. 

“That was wonderful,” she said with a sigh. She looked into his eyes and held the precious moment. Hvitserk tightened his arms around her and placed a kiss on her brow. 

“That was more than wonderful, it was out of this world!”


	10. The End

A few days later, Gemma sat at the kitchen table smiling, enjoying her second cup of coffee. Satisfaction bubbled in her heart making her giddy and light headed. Hvitserk had left earlier to go to work after an intimate breakfast for two in bed. She hadn’t made the bed yet – it was too soon to disturb the scene of their passionate lovemaking. She began to daydream about how she planned to spend the rest of her well-deserved holiday, what she would do with and for Hvitserk, but she was startled from her reverie by the ringing of the telephone. 

“Hello?” 

“How’s my favorite lady today?” Hvitserk asked, seductively. At the sound of his voice, chills ran up and down her body, leaving in its wake a desire that reached out to every sensitive part within her. Smiling, she responded, 

“I’m a little tired and frankly a little worn out. Somebody has been making love to me for the past three days and nights and if I could find him, I’d like to thank him for being so attentive to my needs.” 

“My pleasure, and the same to you,” Hvitserk said in a lazy, teasing voice. “I’ve made some plans for this evening that I think you’ll enjoy.” 

“World records were set and broken over the last three days,” Gemma said, her body continuing to warm from the sound of his voice. “How can you possibly top that?” He cleared his throat and kept the game going a little longer. 

“I’m talking about the Waterfall and I’ve been saving it just for you.” 

“The what?” she laughed, her eyes sparkling in anticipation. She picked up her coffee and took a drink. She was enjoying their little diversion. 

“The Waterfall,” he teased. “It goes like this…” Gemma swallowed repeatedly as she sat listening to Hvitserk describe his secret sexual adventure. Her skin tingled all over listening to Hvitserk whisper his fantasy. It was as if he were right there, touching those aching places, reaching through the phone line, caressing her eager body. She was squirming in the chair and so aroused she thought she might have to drive to his office and throw herself across his desk and beg him to fuck her! She let it continue, momentarily, then suddenly she couldn’t stand it another second. 

“Stop, Hvitserk! You’re seducing me over the phone.” And in a whisper, as if the walls had ears, she murmured, “I’m really looking forward to the Waterfall.” 

“You’re going to love it,” he said in a sexy, syrupy drawl. “In the meantime, I’ve made some additional plans – reservations at Le Cafe De Petit Prince. Will you have dinner with me?” 

“Le Cafe? How wonderful! I’ve heard it’s fabulous,” she said, thrilled that Hvitserk was treating her to such a fantastic evening. “Oh, great! I’ll wear something elegant and sexy.” 

“Gemma, you’d look sexy in a tea towel,” Hvitserk said, pleased that she was so happy with his plans. “I have to get back to the grind. I’ll pick you up around seven. See you then.” 

“Goodbye, Hvitserk, and I’m really looking forward to this evening and your Waterfall.” 

When Hvitserk hung the phone up, he sat for a moment, thinking about Gemma; her stunning eyes, blazing brown hair and sexy figure. But there was so much more to Gemma than the packaging, wonderful as it was; she had such a great sense of humor and a happy, positive outlook on life. She had so many interests, and like Hvitserk, she enjoyed being active outdoors. Hell, he thought, here was a woman who might go fishing with him in the spring and hiking in the summer. Gemma had always really been his best friend and he felt he must have been blind not to realize that she could be so much more. He could hardly wait to see her tonight and he wondered, as he turned back to his computer, how anyone in love ever managed to get any work done. 

Gemma smiled as she put the receiver down. It felt like her heart was jumping and bouncing against the sides of her chest. She was in love and wanted everyone to know, she wanted to shout it to the world. Her holidays were off to a great start, she thought. She still had most of the day before Hvitserk arrived but had plenty to do and made a mental list as she headed for the car. The first stop was the grocery store to pick up an assortment of cheeses, fruit and some freshly baked Danish. Next, a quick stop at her favorite boutique for new lipstick, something a little brighter than her usual colors. When at last she arrived home, she hurried into the bedroom and placed several fresh candles by her bedside and remade the bed with new silk sheets.

Next, she started the beautifying process and washed her hair and indulged herself with a manicure. Finally, she relaxed in a hot, scented bath, recalling the previous night’s wonderful madness with Hvitserk. She clambered out of the tub and just as she was about to dry her hair, the doorbell chimed. Gemma rushed to the door and was surprised and thrilled to see the delivery man from the local florist standing on her doorstep with a long, white box tied with a red satin ribbon. The man broke into a big grin and beamed when Gemma clapped her hands in excitement and reached for the box, thanking him enthusiastically. She opened the box in the kitchen and withdrew a dozen long-stemmed roses. The card read very simply, “Later…” 

The roses were yellow, her favorite color, and she was touched that Hvitserk had remembered. She felt tears burning the back of her eyes as she placed the roses in a crystal vase, inhaling their lush scent. For the rest of the day she walked on air. Wrapped in her oversize terry cloth robe, Gemma stood in the bathroom in her stocking feet, applying the finishing touches to her make-up. She laid the lipstick aside and took a final look at her appearance. Her hair was perfect, glistening in the mirror as it caught the light. Then she gently added a dab of perfume. Pausing while examining the contents of her closet, Gemma took special care in her selection of the perfect dress for the occasion. She narrowed her choice to two dresses which she pulled from her closet and laid on her bed; one was a simple, but elegant ankle length black dress, the other a deep burgundy velvet mini-dress that shamelessly accentuated her figure. She chose the long, off-the-shoulder black gown. It fit perfectly, hugging her body, flowing down to her ankles, with a long sensuous slit up one side. The sleeves were long and tight, ending just below her wrists. She slipped into the dress and admired the material, sliding her hands down the satiny fabric from her breasts to her thighs. The only jewelry she wore were the diamond studs her parents had given her for her birthday. With a final glance in the mirror, she flipped the light off and went to wait for Hvitserk. She walked to the hall closet and pulled a long black, woollen coat from the rack and an elegant sheer scarf with silver threads running through it – something she could drape over her hair to ward off the wind. 

As she pulled the scarf from the closet, there was a knock at the front door. She smiled with anticipation, knowing who it was. Laying her coat on a chair, she smoothed her dress with her hands as she hurried to the door. Hvitserk stood before her in a grey, pin striped suit under a long, slate-grey overcoat. He looked so handsome it took her breath away. Stepping inside, he bent and kissed her softly on her waiting lips. Then, taking both her hands in his, he stepped back to admire her, his eyes travelling the length of her body, searing her skin through the soft material. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, the words husky with emotion. 

“And you – you look so handsome I can hardly stand it! And Hvitserk, thank you for the roses. Look.” she said, leading him into the livingroom. “Aren’t they marvellous? I feel so spoiled!” 

“I’ve only just begun to spoil you,” he said holding her coat for her to slip into. They walked hand in hand to the car. As soon as they pulled out of the driveway, Hvitserk reached over and closed his hand over hers, placing it on his thigh. They just had to be touching, and she moved closer to him, occasionally caressing his face with the tips of her fingers. They drove in silence the rest of the way, listening to the love songs drifting from the car stereo and glancing at one another often, smiling, happy to be together. Hvitserk broke the silence. 

“We’re almost there,” he said as he turned off the highway onto a tree-lined lane, where ground lights turned the snow-encrusted branches overhead into a canopy of shimmering gems. As they rounded the last curve, Gemma caught her breath as they approached an early nineteenth-century mansion, built in the tradition of a French country home. A set of flagstone steps led to a huge semi-circular portico that was supported by thick, white pillars, festooned with fresh cedar boughs bearing hundreds of tiny, twinkling lights. Antique coach lanterns on each side of the massive, burgundy door, cast a golden glow that glistened on a huge brass door knocker fashioned in the shape of a lion’s head. Beneath the lanterns sat large, white urns holding twin cedar globes dotted with more lights, gleaming magically through a dusting of snow.

“Oh, Hvitserk“, Gemma cried, as he pulled the car into the parking area, “it looks like a winter wonderland!” He looked at her beautiful eyes, sparkling with pleasure and raised her hand to his lips. 

“I’d almost forgotten just what little it takes to please you”, he said smiling at her excitement. “This is your real birthday dinner, Gemma – no crazy gifts and paper crowns this time!” She laughed as they walked hand in hand, along the stone pathway that led to the door. Just inside the entrance was a cloakroom where Hvitserk hung their coats before the hostess greeted them and ushered them to their table. Each dining room was decorated in a different motif and Hvitserk had reserved a table in the Victorian Room, resplendent in rose-patterned chintz and soft lace curtains. The room was bathed in candlelight. Brass wall sconces cast a soft light on the diners and huge, gilt-framed mirrors reflected the candlelight that glowed from each table. At the back corner of the large and elegant room was a small, intimate dance floor with music softly echoing in the background. As soon as they were seated, a waiter approached and took their orders for wine, leaving them with menus and promising to return shortly. 

“Everything sounds so delicious,” Gemma said, “I’m going to have a hard time making a choice.” Together they discussed the various delectable selections and decided on the same appetizer and entree. The waiter silently arrived to deliver their wine and then left as quickly as he had come not wanting to interrupt the two lovers. 

“In the meantime,” Hvitserk said, “have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” The candlelight glistened in her eyes and cast a soft glow over her face and hair. As she leaned toward him, his eyes slowly travelled down to her cleavage. 

“Yes, I believe you have,” she answered, blushing at his obvious admiration. “Thank you.” Hvitserk raised his wineglass.

“To my little neighbor in pigtails who blossomed into an exquisitely beautiful woman.” Gemma touched her glass to his and looking into each other’s eyes, they took their first sip of wine. 

“And now it’s my turn,” Gemma announced, reaching to place her hand on his. “To my handsome Cuddles whose tacky junk has brought him fame.” 

“A great toast,” Hvitserk said, laughing and tipping his glass to his lips. As if on cue, the waiter returned to take their orders. Hvitserk ordered escargots, Caesar salad and grilled salmon for them both.

As soon as the waiter left, Gemma couldn’t resist and proceeded with a devilish grin, “So now that you’re a radio celebrity, what about television?” she teased and took another sip of her wine. 

“I really have to thank you for organizing that radio interview. I know it was meant as a joke to embarrass me but it really lifted me out of the pit. And by the way, the television station has called twice about producing a special documentary on my collection; local celebrity of world collectibles. I haven’t returned the station’s calls because I was afraid that if they actually showed my collection on television, the next call would be from the funny farm. I can’t believe the attention my little radio nightmare has received!” Hvitserk paused, obviously still a little overwhelmed by his recent notoriety. “And if I dare ask, how did you organize that radio rendezvous anyway?” Gemma knew sooner or later he would ask that question but she was ready. 

“Well, Hvitserk, I’m not quite sure if I can reveal my tactics. But, tell you what, maybe we can trade information. You tell me how you stole my brassiere the night you ran it up the flagpole back in high school,” Gemma said, pausing for effect, “and I’ll tell you how I masterminded your little radio ordeal. If you play your cards right, maybe the same ploy will get you on Jerry Springer.” Hvitserk couldn’t help but laugh. For years Gemma had wanted to know how he had stolen her bra for his flagpole joke and he had managed to hold out, until this moment. 

“Well, all right, I’ll tell you but on one condition.” Hvitserk looked at Gemma, her eyes were glistening brighter than the candles that adorned the table. Gemma acknowledged his statement with a bow of her head. Hvitserk looked deeply into her eyes and in a serious voice said, 

“You go first.” 

Gemma grinned and dove right in, “Okay. Several weeks ago when Shannon was over, she was telling me about the Celebrity Auction and joking that she and I should go… Well, then we heard the auction announcement advertised on the radio – it was being sponsored by the station. We joked about the auction a little more but basically let the subject drop. Then four days ago, Shannon popped over for lunch and told me about you and Leslie breaking up. For the life of me, I was going out of my mind with worry, because I knew you’d be feeling badly, so after she left I called the station and had them call you.” Gemma folded her hands in front of her and waited for his response. 

Hvitserk raised an eyebrow and said, “Hold on, you’re not getting off that easy. What did you say to the station people?” 

“When I called, I asked for the station manager who put me in touch with the DJ handling the promotions for the auction. And then we had a little chat. He was hooked when I began describing your collection…. God, you’re lucky. I made the mistake of telling him the story about your pilgrimage to Detroit, to the old Tiger stadium just before it was torn down, to collect one of the washroom urinals. The DJ went wild when he heard that. He was going to lead with the urinal story along with your African shrunken head but I talked him out of it by telling him about your Dame Edna panty hose.” 

“Thanks for being so considerate,” Hvitserk said dryly, grinning at her. 

“All right Cuddles, now it’s your turn. How did you steal my bra?” Gemma gazed expectantly at Hvitserk. 

“My story is not as interesting as yours.” Gemma could tell a stall tactic when she heard one and gave him a look that would stop a truck. Hvitserk decided against further delays and came out with it. “It was Shannon.” 

“Shannon! No way!” Gemma was dumbfounded. 

“Oh yes, it was actually Shannon who suggested the joke.” Hvitserk was revelling in his old prank and loved the looked of total surprise on her face. “If you remember, you’d recently played some ruthless prank on me – something to do with lace panties in my gym bag,” he said giving Gemma a knowing look. “Then one afternoon at school, Shannon approached me and suggested the flagpole prank, promising to snatch one of your bras.” Gemma and Hvitserk both began laughing and realized that it was Shannon who was the silent master prankster. Hvitserk took her hand. 

“Could I have this dance?” She nodded and stood up as Hvitserk pulled her chair out. They walked to the dance floor hand-in-hand. When she turned to him, Hvitserk pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“This is nice,” he murmured in her ear, as they began to slowly move to the rhythm of the music. Gemma laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, enjoying their closeness, one arm around his neck and the other against his chest. She could feel his heart beating strongly against her palm and smiled as he nuzzled her hair. Gemma breathed a sigh, her body alive with urgent feelings. So many emotions were running through her, bubbling to the surface. 

“I love you,” she whispered softly against his chest. Hvitserk stopped in mid-stride. Gemma raised her head and their eyes met. Never in his life had those words sounded so exquisite, so beautiful to his ears. He placed his hands on either side of her face, looking deeply into her eyes. 

“Gemma, I love you more than I ever thought possible. I think I’ve loved you all these years, but I was too blind or stupid to know it. God, I’m happy!” he said, laughing out loud. Then he lifted her off her feet and spun her around on the dance floor, hugging her until she laughed and begged him to put her down. Together, they walked back to their table, laughing, smiling and touching. 

Their dinners arrived and they were convinced it was the best meal they’d ever had. They were both swept into their own world of absolute perfection, captivated by one another and feeling totally complete in the discovery of a soulmate. During the drive home, they sat side-by-side in the car, their hands clasped tightly between them, the air around them charged with excitement. As they pulled into the driveway, the only light that was on was the one above the door, shining like a beacon in the night. Turning the motor off, Hvitserk opened his door and walked around to help Gemma from the car. Gemma dug into her purse for her keys, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to push the key into the lock. Hvitserk rescued her by gently taking the keys and unlocking the door. He pushed it open, then closed it softly behind them. Neither one knew who made the first move.   
Their coats were gone and he unzipped her dress and watched as the silky fabric fell shimmering to the floor revealing her sheer, black lace bra. Her heart skipped a beat as Hvitserk slowly traced a path along the thin line of her silk underwear. One single finger slipped under the band, teasing her. He slid it back and forth, making her squirm, making her want one thing and one thing only. He groaned when he felt heat against his fingers. He pushed her panties down over her deliciously tender bottom and moved his hands deeper and deeper into the softness below. An animal sound escaped from her throat, urging Hvitserk on.

She didn’t think she could take any more, it was too intense, too much. Her whole body throbbed with need. “Now, please!” she begged. He picked her up and carried her through the hall to her bedroom. There, he placed her on the soft duvet that covered the bed and kissed her with the intensity that only true passion can inspire. He was so aroused he could hear the blood pulsing through his body, ringing in his ears. He sucked in a breath as she ran her fingers down his thigh. A seductive smile formed on her face in response to feeling the full extent of his arousal. Too much too fast, he thought in a haze of desire. 

He quickly moved away from Gemma and stood up, leaving Gemma staring at him in eager anticipation. He shook off his pants and shirt and once again joined her on the bed. He placed his hands on either side of her head, wrapping his fingers through her hair. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered to her. Leaning his head down he kissed her with everything he had, every desire, every wish and every dream. Softly, she kissed his bare chest, her mouth like the touch of butterfly wings. His skin tingled wherever her lusciously warm mouth touched. He felt helpless, as he watched and felt her move from one spot to the next, branding him for life. Hvitserk moved his hands across her shoulders to her arms, softly squeezing them in response. “So damn good,” he moaned, as she moved across his body, her hair weaving a sensuous trail behind her warm lips. The need to bury himself deep within her was becoming too strong, like a burning hunger. He tucked her beneath him and moved his hands downward, between the valley of her breasts, down over her stomach. Heat radiated from her as he moved his body over hers, her fire burning him to the very core, as she wrapped her legs around his. 

She felt her world spinning out of control, his hands stroking and teasing until she could no longer endure it. She grabbed a fistful of his hair in each hand and pulled his mouth from hers. “Now, Hvitserk!” she said in desperation. He watched as she closed her eyes, waiting for him. Then he slipped deep within her as they wove a magic spell, moving together, wrapped up in a world all their own, bringing them closer and closer to a wondrous outburst of passion.

The slow gentle movement of her hips turned to wild thrashing gyrations as she searched for release. Gemma felt it, that all consuming sensation, racking her body from head to toe, as she arched her back in response. She cried his name in what seemed an unfamiliar voice as the dazzling colors of a delirious rainbow exploded in her head. Her body trembled uncontrollably time and time again. Hvitserk felt it too, like a glove squeezing the very life from his being. Every sensation that was gripping her was gripping him and he was pulled into her wondrous spell. 

With a final growl bursting from his lungs, he collapsed on top of her, nuzzling her neck with his lips. He rolled over, bringing her with him, tucking her in the crook of his arm. With a satisfied sigh, Gemma closed her eyes. The last thing she remembered was Hvitserk kissing her lightly on the forehead. Two hours later Hvitserk woke up, smiling as he rolled over and watched her sleep. 

“Who would have thought?” he murmured, delicately tracing the bones on her cheek, then gently touching her lips. She sighed softly. Gemma had been awake for a few minutes enjoying the moment. It felt right to have Hvitserk in her bed. She could get used to this, she thought as she rolled over and kissed him. “I thought you were asleep,” he whispered. 

“Guess you were wrong. Come here.” She pulled him down until he covered her body like a warm blanket. Hvitserk smiled. 

“You’re wanton,” he growled in her ear. “I like that in my woman,” he said, then in one quick motion he joined their bodies again and carried her over the horizon for yet another ride on the wild side. 

The next morning Gemma awoke to find Hvitserk leaning against the window frame. He was holding the curtains aside and studying the morning sun as it rose in the sky. Beautiful pastels swirled around the clouds that hung from the heavens. The soft sounds of a lone songbird drifted by and Gemma suddenly realized that spring was just around corner. She moved the blankets aside and grabbed the sheet off the bed, wrapping it around her body. Quietly, without disturbing him, she padded next to him. 

“You’re up early,” she whispered. Hvitserk turned slowly towards her and held out his arms to enfold her. She stepped into them and snuggled close to his warm body, wrapping an   
arm around his waist and gently placing a kiss on his bare chest. He laid his cheek against her tousled hair and gave her an affectionate squeeze. 

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he answered softly. “Look at that.” He moved the curtain further aside so she could see what he found so fascinating. The contrast was spectacular, the white snow against the brilliant colors of the morning. To add to the scenery, the buds on the maple trees had begun their magic, signaling the oncoming change in season. 

“Beautiful,” she said, resting her head against him. Then she noticed something sitting on the windowsill. It looked like a ball of yellowed tissue paper, wrapped with a tiny crumpled red ribbon. “What’s that?” she said, as Hvitserk placed his hand over the intriguing little bundle. He looked down at her and smiled rather sheepishly. 

“I had it in my pocket last night and I was going to give it to you at dinner, but I was afraid you’d laugh,” he said. “It’s a bit corny.” 

“What is it? Let me see!” she said, trying to pry his fingers open. Hvitserk laughed and raised his hand high above his head. “It’s just an old birthday present.” 

“What do you mean, an old birthday present?” she laughed, standing on her tiptoes and trying to reach his hand. 

“You’re not going to believe this, but it’s a dopey thing I bought for you when we were in high school, but then we broke up, so I never did give it to you.” 

“You mean you’ve had it all these years? Give it to me, Cuddles!” she said, digging a knuckle into his ribcage. 

“Promise you won’t laugh?” he asked, his face slightly flushed. “I’m telling you, it’s really corny, but I was trying to be romantic, and what did I know at sixteen. Maybe it belongs in my room of tackiness.” 

“No more excuses,” Gemma ordered, “hand it over!” She held her hand out and Hvitserk placed the little balled up wad of tissue paper in her palm. Slowly she pulled the crinkled paper apart to reveal a small ring of gold, with two hearts entwined. Gemma felt tears in her eyes. 

“It’s not corny at all, it’s a lovely ring,” she said, her throat suddenly feeling tight. 

“You haven’t read the inscription yet,” Hvitserk said, “you’d better reserve judgement.” Gemma turned the ring around and saw the words of love that only a teenage boy could have composed. The inscription read, ‘Love’s Next Door’. Tears of happiness welled up in her eyes. 

“I love you,” she whispered softly against his chest as a tear trickled down her cheek, falling between them. Hvitserk placed a finger under her chin and raised her face until their eyes met. There was a ghost of a smile on her lips. He used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the solitary drop that was about to fall. 

“Gemma, you’re really touched, aren’t you? I thought you’d laugh… I can remember when I bought it, I was wishing I could afford something better.” 

“You thought I’d laugh?” she said. “I’m going to wear it for the rest of my life! Look, it fits my pinkie finger perfectly.” She held out her hand for him to admire the little ring she considered a treasure, the inscription sweet and tender and so very, very true. Hvitserk gently took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips. 

“You never cease to amaze me,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Smiling, Gemma glanced at the bed and murmured, 

“I’d like to give you a special Waterfall thank you for…” She never finished the words. Hvitserk gathered her up in his strong arms and gently laid her on the bed, their bed. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss that left them both breathless. Their lovemaking took on new meaning as they joined heart, body and soul, knowing they shared a love that would carry them through the rest of their lives, proving that love can flourish where you least expect it – even next door.


End file.
